


The First 20

by AeeDee



Series: The First 20 [2]
Category: Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Age Difference, Body Worship, Gender Dysphoria, Intersex, M/M, Mpreg, Oral Sex, Pregnancy, Pregnancy Kink, Secret Relationship, Sex, Transgender
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-13
Updated: 2013-09-13
Packaged: 2017-12-26 09:54:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 32,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/964584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AeeDee/pseuds/AeeDee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A fill for the <a href="http://justice-kink.livejournal.com/">YJ kink meme</a>, for a prompt that requested "mpreg". I approached this as a sequel to my previous fic, <i>Theirs</i>, but that reading is not essential for this story.  This fic poses this question: If Wally did get pregnant, what are the consequences?</p><p>The title of this fic is literal.  This story strictly focuses on the first twenty weeks of Wally's pregnancy.  What ends up being a very eventful set of weeks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The First 20

**Author's Note:**

> For the purposes of this storyline, Wally is portrayed as an intersex character. Some creative liberty, and some rare odds make this possible. I am including the "Mpreg" tag for this story because the character identifies as male.

“What?” his mother almost dropped her plate into the sink. Setting it down with shaky hands, eyes wide with alarm as she stares at him.

“I uh…” he can’t look at her anymore.

“Wally,” her words almost frantic, “Are you sure?”

“Y-Yes, I…”

“You know, some of those tests are inaccurate,” she crosses her arms against her chest and says it calmly, but her face is betraying her. Her frown is deepening.

“Mom, I…”

“Yes,” she’s holding out. She’s looking for some hope.

But he has none to give. He looks up at her with tearful eyes, glossy as he blinks slowly. “I went to a doctor.”

“And?” but she already knows.

He’s too choked up to speak. So instead he just nods. Manages a murmur, “It’s true,” and stares down to the floor, because the floor won’t judge him, the floor won’t look at him like that-

“Wally,” she’s sighing to herself. She nervously presses a hand to her forehead, fingers trying to ease away some of her stress. “Well,” the word is sharp and urgent. “Whose is it.”

Wally bites his lip.

“Whose is it, Wally?”

He shakes his head.

“Wally,” her voice is getting higher, “Answer me.”

He opens his mouth to speak, but all that comes out is a distorted sob, as he raises a hand to cover and stifle it.

“ _Oh_ , Wally. Wally,” her voice mournful, as she exhales a slow sigh. “Honey,” with a shake of her head. She steps closer, and opens her arms in an invitation, as he drifts into her embrace. “Wally, honey. Talk to me.”

But all he can manage is another sob, another sob and a muffled, “I love him,” that barely has any sound.

And the moment he says that, the way he says that, she knows the answer to her question.

“Oh my God.”

-

“Wally,” the man rises to his feet, the moment he enters the room. Rushes over, “Wally,” notices his tear-streaked face, “Baby,” winds his arms around him and pulls him close. “Did it go okay?”

Wally shakes his head. He doesn’t have the right words to describe it. Doesn’t need them.

The guilt in his chest. The nausea in his stomach. The fear. It’s all in his face.

Barry kisses him just below the eyes, trails hands up his back and says, “It’s gonna be okay.”

“No, it won’t-”

“It’s gonna be okay,” he kisses him again and pulls him closer.

“She said I can’t tell Dad-”

Barry sighs. “Yeah, he’ll be upset…”

“And you can’t tell Iris-”

“Shh,” he cuts him off, because he does not like where this is going. Not in that tone. A quiet murmur to calm him down, “I will.”

“But how-”

“Let me take care of that.” He leans back, to stare at him directly. “Alright? I’ll take care of that.”

Wally nods.

“Don’t worry, okay?” A small smile, “It’s not healthy.”

Wally sighs. But he’s nodding. He understands. He hears the implication, and it makes him feel unusually conflicted. Excited and terrified.

_It’s not healthy for the baby._

Barry’s-

He sighs, and pleads with him, “Help me.”

“I will,” trailing hands across his shoulders, “I promise.” A kiss to his forehead, a quiet reassurance, “I’m here for you. I’m always here.”

-

Wally’s hoping no one sees it. Because it’s easier not to say anything. Not until he has to.

There’s a small curve to his stomach. Slight enough to be unnoticeable in the front. More prominent from the side. And it ordinarily wouldn’t be an issue, except that he’s had stone-flat abs since he joined the team. His metabolism is through the roof. Unlike almost any other human being, he can’t lie and say he’s accidentally put on some weight.

They’d already noticed his increase in eating. Mainly because it became so ridiculous he couldn’t pretend it was normal, even for him. He was up to eating at least once every half hour on some days, even waking up in the middle of the night to grab a snack before his stomach ate itself.

They’d had one sleepover, during his first couple of weeks. That wasn’t so bad, except that he nearly ate all of the food Megan and Conner had stored at Mount Justice. They thought to call in a pizza as backup, except that he startled everyone by requesting sub sandwiches instead. Wally, who was famous for eating entire quarts of ice cream, devouring entire pizzas and several burgers in one sitting. Sandwiches? He’d made a joke about being on a diet, but no one understood what he meant.

So it was with some shame that he just accepted the damn pizza. Tried for a vegetarian one, in hopes it wouldn’t be too awful.

And when he got sick in the night and vomited half of it back up, he hated that damn pizza even more.

He ended up running out to get a few sandwiches for himself, with another for backup, because he knew he’d use most of his energy up just to get there and back.

He hated running, in the immediate weeks after. Running was difficult, in between the nausea and the inconsistent onsets of fatigue. His metabolism was burning through everything, and speed running wasn’t helping. He even sat out a few missions, claiming he’d caught a cold. Because on some days he just got so tired that he didn’t want to deal with it.

So instead he’d spend those evenings with Barry, curled up on his bed as they watched movies. With Barry’s arms around him, he forgot about the downsides. He forgot about the stress, or the fact that Barry still hadn’t told Iris, and that as soon as his father found out, he may not be able to return home again for a while. He didn’t think about what his team might say, when they found out about his condition, his abnormal body, or this, _this_ , he couldn’t even say the word yet. Couldn’t even use the word on himself yet, except that he knew there was a living thing inside him.

Barry would sometimes kiss his stomach, before he left. He’d jokingly say goodnight to the baby, even as Wally would tease that it wasn’t even conscious of him yet. Barry would laugh, and say it was never too early to start loving her.

In his mind, the baby was a girl. Wally didn’t know. He’d been assuming it was a boy.

But the very thought of _boy_ or _girl_ started to delight him, after his initial panic started to subside. The thought of something _alive_ was mystifying and amazing.

He’d always been a freak. This wouldn’t make him less of one. But when the third week rolled around, and he started thinking that this thing inside him was a _baby_ , that… That changed his perspective. A boy or a girl, a living thing. A person. He and Barry had created a person that would soon enter the world.

And that was just the most stunning revelation. When the thought appeared in his mind he sat there on his bed for an hour, sat still and stared at the ceiling and tried to imagine what it was like. Tried to imagine what it felt like to be a parent, what it honestly felt like to give life to someone that had never existed before. To hold a child in your arms and to give it a name and-

God, names? He hadn’t even thought of names, not now or ever. He needed more time to even consider what those would be.

Barry had accepted the idea more readily. Wally immediately noticed that. He wasn’t entirely surprised that Wally was pregnant—that word, there it is—because he knew about his abnormal body, he knew what it was capable of, and he knew that they were having sex… and being reckless…

Wally is fifteen years old. That’s the part that makes him more nervous than anything.

It made sense that Barry was able to embrace the idea sooner. That he knew what to do, when Wally had the first pregnancy scare those few months ago, that he immediately told him how long to wait, what kind of doctor to visit, and what information he’d need to have ready for them. Barry was on top of it. And when Wally’s period stopped again this time, Barry was noticeably uneasy—he was noticeably rattled—but he was calm, so calm and soothing that he was able to guide him through it. He held him when he came over to his house, immediately after he got the news. He held him for what felt like hours, and talked softly to him. Some apologies in there, some very painful regrets but more than anything, reassurance.

Barry knew what to do. He’d been able to think about this, to imagine what would happen, to consider himself as a future parent for over two decades of his life.

Wally had fifteen years. Five, since he had an idea of what sex was. Three, since he fundamentally understood where babies came from. And now just three weeks, since he started wondering what it was like to be a parent.

He traces a hand over his stomach; turns sideways and looks at the curve again. It’s ridiculously subtle. If he can stay in civvies—thank goodness for loose shirts—until the sun goes down, the nighttime light should obscure it.

But what is he going to do, when he can’t hide it at all…

His chest tenses up. He shakes his head, the way Barry told him to; shrug it off and let it go, when you’re tempted to focus on anything scary or depressing. He’s gotta stay healthy, and if he wants to be healthy, half of that is in his state of mind. Right. Emotional distress is as difficult on the baby as it is on his—no, let’s go with her—parent. Right.

Wally isn’t sure he wants a girl. He wouldn’t know how to raise a girl. But he’s not sure he’d know what to do with a boy, either.

Sometimes he wants to ask his mother about what she felt, when she had him. But apart from offering advice about what his body was going through, there’s little else they talk about.

He always feels a little sad after speaking with her. Because she isn’t thrilled about the miracle of life or looking forward to having a grandchild. She talks about the next months like they are a temporary problem, a problem that will be fixed when the baby magically disappears.

She’d hinted more than once that he could put it up for adoption. She implied that he was too young to raise a child.

He knew that. But the baby, _their_ baby, he just couldn’t- The idea of holding his newborn in his arms and handing it away was something that brought him deep regret from the moment he considered it. He didn’t know why. It was too soon to really… He didn’t… He barely even knew this child.

But he felt something tug at his heart whenever he imagined moving on, moving forward like this never happened at all.

His mom had spoken the word _abortion_ , during the early days. By the end of the first week. When he first heard it, he thought it might be an option. It was a way out.

But then he was back in Barry’s arms. Remembering how good it felt to be with him, seeing the delight in the man’s face when he’d run a hand over his stomach, even when Wally teased that there was nothing there. Barry had even said, “She’s there. You just can’t see her yet.”

Wally had never been crazy about the idea of having children. But the more time he spent around Barry, the more he wanted it. He wanted to see Barry as a father. He wanted to see himself, to see what he could become. He wanted to see what their family would be like, the kind of child they’d raise. Boy or girl, he wanted to meet that person.

So as time wore on, the _a_ word wasn’t an option anymore. He wasn’t scared enough. He wasn’t angry enough. He was curious and hopeful and… almost happy. When he’d go to bed at night, he’d sometimes massage over the small bump there, wondering what was happening inside. He’d think back to what he’d learned about human development, and what the doctor had told him about the various stages. He’d wonder what would change, what more would happen.

He sometimes couldn’t wait for his stomach to grow larger. He sometimes wanted it to be obvious. To have to say that he was having a baby, and to hear the supportive remarks. Warm comments like Barry’s, and for someone to say the first _Congratulations_ he would have heard before. Because that word was never going to appear in this house.

He looks at the curve in his body one more time. Decides he’s spent too much time here thinking about it. So he pulls on a jacket, and heads out for the mountain.

-

“Are you okay?” Dick is sending him a concerned look, face contorted even behind his sunglasses, as he leans forward.

“Yeah,” he nods as he saunters back into the room, fingers idly rubbing at his throat. He shrugs it off. He didn’t mind the vomiting itself, but he never got used to the way the acid burned. But it was already wearing off. Speed healing proved effective.

He was normally pretty good at hiding this; when he felt it coming on, he’d run out of the room and hide for those few minutes, hide in the bathroom and run water in the sink to pretend he was occupied. The only difference about today is that they’d seen it. He wasn’t fast enough, because it didn’t seem as bad until he was already throwing up onto the floor.

“You sure,” Dick asks.

“Totally,” he smiles at him, only more calmly than usual because he was feeling tired again… He’s yawning to himself as Kaldur starts going over their agenda for the day. Dick nudges him gently in the elbow, as if telling him to listen. Wally smirks and nods back at him.

He lucked out. There’s no mission today. But they do have house chores. Wally laughs a little at that. But Megan pouts at him, saying she’s sick of having to do it all the time. Wally asks, “Doesn’t Conner help you?” Megan says he _tries_. Conner grunts a defense back, lacking words to defend it any better. Wally just grins and shakes his head.

Feeling the slight tinge of hunger, Wally reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a granola bar. He’s eating in silence while Kaldur finishes his speech… and assigns him to cleaning the floors.

“What,” he whines. “Why?”

“Because you’re the fastest,” Artemis is rolling her eyes at him, “Duh.”

Kaldur justifies it more eloquently, “You can cover ground much faster than any of us.”

Wally sighs. Considering that his energy was depleted and his nausea wasn’t completely gone, he’d hate to aggravate it by running and crawling around. He’d seen Kaldur’s definition of clean. He’d want those damn floors to look impeccable. He shrugs, “But… I’m sick?”

“Do you not feel well?” Megan turns back to look at him.

He shrugs a little, “Not really.”

“That’s weird,” Dick chimes in. “Don’t you usually feel better after you throw up?”

“Not always,” Wally quickly snaps back. “I mean…” he hesitates, not wanting to reveal too much, “It comes and goes.”

“Whoa,” Artemis is leaning towards him, “Are you actually sick?”

Dick looks at her with a sarcastic smirk, “He did just throw up.”

“Yeah, but… I thought that was more like… him being weird.”

“Weird?”

“I don’t know, he’s been weird lately-”

“It’s okay,” Wally just gives in, because this is getting uncomfortable. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“See,” Artemis grins, “I told you he was okay.”

But the minute he stands, he feels his stomach turning again. He takes a step forward, moving to sit on the edge of the couch until he feels well enough to walk normally. But he doesn’t make it there.

Coughs and chokes inside his mouth, and rushes out of the room.

Dick says out loud, “Dude.”

And when Wally comes back, clearing his throat and looking visibly uncomfortable, he’s right there, asking again with more urgency this time, “Are you okay?”

Wally nods, “Yeah, it’s just… usually not that sudden.”

“Usually?” Dick’s tilting his head.

Wally catches what he said. Oh. _Oh._ “Nah, it.. doesn’thappenalot.”

“But you just said _usually_ , like it’s been going on-”

“No, it’s not.”

“Wally-”

“Can we just drop it?”

He startles Dick into silence. And immediately feels the guilt. He hates to be cold with him. Can’t stand being cold with him like that.

“I’m just… kinda sick lately. That’s it,” he shrugs. He nods to himself, almost for reassurance.

Artemis’ hesitant voice disrupting the tension between them, “I… think you should sit this one out.”

“I agree,” a reluctant sigh from Kaldur.

Wally nods and sits down with a sigh, “Sorry guys.”

He hated to be so useless. Hated that on some days he couldn’t do anything without throwing up, wanting to pass out, or needing to stop and eat first. The so-called morning sickness—which he was lucky enough to get during the morning and afternoon—was supposed to pass after the first few weeks. So when was it going to quit?

He pulls another granola bar out of his pocket. Hopes it stays down this time.

-

Oh God. Now he’s really showing.

He’s showing. _Showing._ It’s too obvious now. It’s way too obvious.

There’s a noticeable roundness to his lower stomach, a noticeable smoothness that distorts the way his shirt fits over his body. He’d managed to be clever on missions with his team, spent a lot of time sitting down, a lot of time facing forward, a lot of thought into making sure he didn’t draw any special attention to himself.

So far so good, except… it’s just getting too obvious now.

Barry likes it. He can tell. He likes that there’s a roundness there, a noticeable bump for him to kiss and say his kind murmurings to. He likes that he can see evidence of the baby’s existence.

He makes Wally laugh. Wally still thinks some of the things he says are absurd. He likes to talk about whatever they’re watching on tv. He narrates key events in movies. Talks about who won the sports game. Things that are ridiculous and random.

“You know she can’t hear you,” Wally teases.

“Shh, don’t listen to him,” as he smoothes a hand over his stomach. “We’ll talk more later,” with a sarcastic glance up at Wally’s face, as he rolls his eyes back at him.

But Barry, despite all of his silliness, Barry, despite his jokes, Barry, despite his friendly banter…

Barry told Iris.

He made good on his promise. He told her.

She’d already known they were fooling around; a fact that was brand new, to Wally. She knew they were fooling around, and she allowed it to continue because she assumed it would end soon. She assumed it was a temporary phase. Her husband indulging himself in a small bout of lust that he’d work through and resolve as soon as he was satisfied he’d had enough of it.

But she didn’t know about Wally’s condition. The fact that… _this_ could happen.

Barry said she cried when she heard it. That she hadn’t spoken to him since. That this crossed the line, this made it real somehow. This made it real that he was having an affair. An affair that was now a permanent fixture in their lives. And that her husband was going to be a father… with someone that wasn’t her.

Wally felt awful when he heard it. He’d even suggested that Barry didn’t need to raise the child, that he could take care of it mostly by himself, to give Barry time alone to fix the issues between him and Iris.

Barry didn’t like that at all. Wally knew he wouldn’t. But he had to try.

Barry had reaffirmed that he loved Wally. That he wanted to be there to take care of him. He admitted that yes, maybe this was a mistake but-

“Let me feel the guilt for this. Okay? Let me be the bad guy.”

Iris called Wally out of the blue, a couple of days after that. He was startled when he answered and heard her voice on the other side, startled because he had no idea of what to say. But they didn’t really have a conversation; not a long one. It was more so that Iris wanted to deliver a message.

“If you need help, or assistance with anything, let me know. Don’t hesitate to call me.”

How could she not hate him? He’d hoped she wasn’t just putting the blame on Barry, but the truth was that she probably did. No, she definitely was.

“I know things are weird right now with you, me… and Barry,” she’d admitted. “But… You’re still my nephew, and I love you.”

It was the kind of talk a parent gives a child before they announce their divorce.

“I’m always here for _you_ , Wally. Always.”

-

So he’s showing now. And they have a mission. Outside. With the sun wide up in the sky.

Nervous nervous, he’s nervous as he walks at the back of the group, trying to avoid being in anyone’s direct line of sight for too long. Because he’s not ready to tell them.

He’ll have to, soon. He knows that. But not today. Today, he’s not ready.

Once they get into motion, his worries ease. No one’s looking at him. Not that closely. Everyone’s too busy worrying about the mission at hand.

A sigh of relief, but it comes too soon.

“Kid Flash,” a command from Kaldur.

“Yeah?”

“We need you to go first. Distract the guards.”

“Why does that sound like a lot of work,” he groans.

“Geez,” Artemis is intruding into his conversation again, “Will you quit being so lazy?”

“I’m not,” he sighs. He can’t tell her that he’s been sluggish lately because he’s so tired, and he’s trying not to stress his body too much-

He’s feeling unsteady. He reaches around for his backpack, to fetch a snack. Realizes he doesn’t have it, of course not, because he’s in uniform now, and he didn’t bring it with him. Realizes he didn’t eat before they left the mountain.

“Um,” he asks hesitantly, “Has anyone got a bite to eat?”

He hears sighs among the group. A, “Sheesh,” from Dick. He bites his lip. Grumbles out, “Fine, I’ll go.”

“Hurry,” Dick tells him. “We’ve gotta catch up to the base.”

“Got it,” and he’s off.

-

The fighting was the easy part. When he moves that fast, they can’t touch him. He dances around them as more of an irritation than a hazard, but he does his job nicely. He keeps their eyes on him, keeps them wondering, keeps them chasing him around, running and jumping between trees and darting between buildings, routinely glancing back to make sure they’re still after him. Keeps himself moving fast enough to stay out of their reach; keeps himself slow enough to remain seen, a dizzying blur of a figure in their field of vision.

He gets the signal, a message communicated from Megan, _Kid Flash, we made it in._

He’s telling her back, _Cool, be right there_ , as he ups the pace, becomes so fast he’s nothing more than a brief flash of colors as he intentionally leaves his tails behind. Goons looking around in bewilderment as he disappears behind them.

But when he stops in front of the doors to enter the building, he feels something new. Something different. It’s suddenly difficult to stand. Difficult to move.

Metabolism. His body is burning energy. A rumble in his stomach, but it’s not just hunger.

He pushes his way inside, stumbling down the hallway before he finally makes it in, surprising his group when he arrives looking disoriented and lost.

“Kid-” Artemis is asking a question, but she doesn’t complete the rest. Because she’s wincing back, when he starts to waver on his feet.

A startled cry from Megan, “Wally,” as he’s losing his balance.

He’s falling back, falling back-

Arms suddenly around his shoulders, and someone’s annoyed voice—Dick—complaining, “Heavy, he’s heavy-” Footsteps, rushing over.

The complete inability to move as he closes his eyes and it all fades black.

-

“Wally,” a kind voice eases him back into consciousness, as he’s opening his eyes. “Wally, are you okay?”

He responds with a sudden jolt, as he sits up too fast. Appearing above him, Megan immediately raises her hands, as if to steady and slow him down.

“Where are the others?” he asks, noticing the silence.

“They went to finish the mission,” she says cheerfully, as she reaches for a piece of fruit they’d snagged from one of the trees outside. She wipes it off with her sleeve.

Wally groans to himself. But it’s not just from the exhaustion he feels.

“Here,” she holds it out, a fruit that looks like a small apple.

“Oh,” he acknowledges, sitting up as he accepts it, “Thanks.”

She’s watching him eat in silence, a faint smile of relief on her face as she studies him to make sure he’s awake and slowly, but definitely, recovering to normal. As normal as he’d been lately, anyway… Which was only a shadow of the active boy he’d been before, so full of energy-

“Is the mission going okay?” his voice startles her out of her thoughts.

“Yes,” she smiles kindly. “They should be back soon,” with a nod.

“That’s good,” he nods as well, but his disappointment is still evident. So useless, he hates being so useless to them. At this point, he’s just dead weight.

He can’t imagine months of being this much of a burden to them. But he knows better than to sigh audibly, even if he can’t keep his eyes from falling heavy, or his posture from slumping over, shoulders rolling forward as he loosely winds an arm around his bent knees.

“Wally,” Megan’s voice is gentle, her eyes kind as she looks at him deeply, intently, expression soft and considerate when he glances back at her. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he nods. “’m fine,” he says in between bites, as he polishes off the apple. But he’s still so hungry he starts to chew on the core, absentmindedly before he starts to notice its harsh texture, and slows down in his efforts.

“You’re eating a lot lately,” she says in an amused tone. “Would you like me to get you another one?”

“Mm, I can get it,” he’s standing up, when she quickly reaches out, an urgent hand to stop him.

His eyes widen, when he sees the look of anxiety, nervousness—almost fear—on her face.

“Megan…” he’s giving her a cautious look. What does she know. Because he knows she knows something. She’s noticed something. She probably saw something. Of course she did, when he was just laying here, completely still, right in front of her this whole time-

“Let me get it,” her lips are tense, even if her words are kind, “Please?”

He shrugs it off, “Sure,” but her nervousness is infectious. Her cautiousness…

But he sits still, and waits. Waits the few, agonizingly slow minutes it takes for her to leave, and return with more fruit, this time with more than one. It seems she predicted his appetite accurately, as he feels his mouth watering, his eyes growing wide with anticipation when he sees them.

She watches him eat in silence, a wary smile on her face. He doesn’t want to ask, but…

“You know, don’t you?”

Her smile grows a little; her eyes are heavy, eyelashes falling closed in a slow blink. She nods, her voice trembling, “I-I’m sorry.”

He sighs a little. Resumes eating, to calm his nerves. And because he has nothing better to say. His reaction is reaching his brain ridiculously slowly, but he’s not as startled or afraid as he imagined he would be.

“I just wanted to know what was wrong with you,” she gives a slow shrug, nervously looking away as she says in a faint voice, “and all your thoughts were about the baby.”

His throat tenses up. He feels the blood rush to his face. Wants to speak but can’t. Because there’s something about what she just said, something that moves him in a way he doesn’t understand.

There’s something incredible and wonderful about someone else even mentioning it at all. Especially in that delicate voice, that fragile voice. Something amazing about someone else acknowledging that it’s real. That it’s not all just a delusion inside his head.

Because so often, it feels like it is. So often, it feels like it’s all just a self-imposed stress; a bad dream he’s going to wake up from. There had been a few days when he woke up and didn’t feel pregnant at all, and those were the worst. Because he’d wake up, crawl out of bed and feel the wave of nausea, always there to remind him suddenly. And the reality came crushing back.

“I guess I…” he’s trying to find a way to fill the tension between them, because he doesn’t want her to feel guilty. “I don’t really mind if you-”

 _I don’t really mind if you know._ That’s what he was trying to say.

But that’s the moment when the rest of the crew decides to arrive.

The first thing he hears is Dick’s laughter, which is a relief, because that means the mission went well. Especially when it’s followed with friendly teasing from Artemis.

Wally is sending Megan a cautious smile, and he pats her on the shoulder with a nod, hoping she understands the rest.

She smiles back.

-

Wally didn’t intend to tell Barry about the fainting. It just sort of… slipped out. The way many unfortunate truths often do, in the middle of an otherwise ordinary conversation.

“What,” Barry’s jaw drops.

“It’s not a big deal,” Wally’s shrugging, trying to calm him before he can get worked up, “I just ran out of energy. It happens.”

“Does that happen often?” he tries to keep his voice calm. His body is stiff as he slides an arm around Wally’s shoulder and gently tugs him closer.

Wally obliges, his naked back pressing against Barry’s warm chest as he crawls to sit between Barry’s legs. When Wally murmurs back, “Not really. This was the first time I actually passed out,” he feels Barry’s gentle touch against his stomach, a hand slowly smoothing circles over his skin.

Barry murmurs with a sigh, “You need to be careful.”

“I am,” Wally gives a small whine, “I just…” but he can’t really defend it. He knows. He got careless. He got distracted. He let himself get preoccupied. “I wasn’t thinking.”

Barry responds with a quiet, “Mm,” that’s more of a quiet acknowledgement than a genuine opinion. But Wally knows him well enough. He knows he’s downplaying his concern.

“I’m sorry,” Wally says.

“No, no,” with a small kiss on his neck, “Just be careful.” The faint trace of a sigh against his shoulder, “I can’t be there to look out for you, so…” he almost sounds like he’s in pain, “I need you to do that for me.”

“I will. I’m sorry,” because apologies are instinctive to him; they’re second nature. They’re the only way to express his guilt. Regret for worrying Barry. Disappointment for failing to take care of himself. The worrying thought that everything he does now, and everything that happens to him, is not just about his own well-being anymore. That when he starves and exhausts himself, it’s also affecting the baby-

Barry gives a small laugh to himself, as he glances up at the television, peering at it from behind Wally’s shoulder. Wally knows he’s finding a distraction, but he doesn’t mind. It’s pleasant. It eases the tension. It soothes their nerves.

But they both have an idea for one that’ll work a lot better.

-

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it,” Barry’s voice is a low murmur, as he’s trailing kisses down Wally’s neck.

“Mhm,” he nods up at him, with a small grin, “But you can’t get too crazy…”

“Crazy,” he questions, as he opens his mouth and starts to lick and suck on Wally’s jaw.

“You know,” he laughs a little, “You get carried away,” and he’s gasping at Barry _chewing_ on him. Like that. That’s what he means. When Barry gets aroused, he turns physical-

A calm response, the words muffled against his skin, “I won’t hurt you.” He even pauses to press a kiss against his neck, before pulling back with a slight sigh.

“Hmm?” Wally’s questioning, as he glances up at him.

Barry’s staring down at him, hovering above him with a look on his face that is both thoughtful and… almost sad, somehow. The sun creeps in from between closed blinds, bands of sunlight kissing his skin, shadows falling over his eyes as they reflect a spark of light. His expression is unclear. His intentions are mystifying.

But his words are kind, so kind.

“You’re really beautiful,” he says.

Time has a way of slowing down. Time has a way of appearing to stand still, when your heart moves this fast.

Before Wally can even try to find a response, Barry’s lowering himself down again, moving over him and trailing kisses across his body as he makes his way up to his face. A kiss on the mouth when he arrives there, and a small laugh he suppresses, “Tell me if I get too rough.” Because he knows how he is. He knows how he gets.

His hunger for Wally is insatiable. Frenzied and wild impulses beating in his chest, nerves on fire when they make contact, legs brushing together, mouths meeting somewhere between heavy breaths and half-lost gasps of silence.

His lust, his adoration, his love for Wally defies limitations. It is pure and destructive; it’s led him down a path of corruption. Betrayed his wife. Impregnated his lover. Lied repeatedly to people he loves. Covered up the affair because he was ashamed; the nerve he had, to feel shame while indulging himself so selfishly, so greedily-

But they’ve come too far, now. They’ve come too far to pretend it was all a joke. They’re too involved, too serious, too connected to tell the excuses and spin the stories that it was all about lust and momentary bouts of loneliness. It stopped being about loneliness the moment Wally kissed him; when he kissed him for the first time, the way he was shaking and too afraid to meet his eyes. It wasn’t about loneliness anymore, when Barry kissed him back, kissed and held him like they were already lovers.

Because Wally was the source of his sadness. Wally was the void he was missing. The warmth he wanted, the beauty he didn’t deserve, the lover, the caretaker, the friend. The sidekick that didn’t care about his own ego, the support system that wasn’t ever offended to just remain by his side.

Wally had always known he made Barry a better hero. But Barry was more concerned with being a better man. Even when he sinned, when he cheated on his wife, when he lied to the League and said his intentions were honest and innocent. Even in those moments, when self-loathing defined him, Wally was the warm embrace, the reassuring voice, the saddened sympathy that made him wish he was a better person.

A better companion for Wally, wishing he could love him openly and honestly. A better husband to Iris, wishing he’d had the courage to tell her the truth sooner. And now, a better father to his child.

It’s still sinking in. It’s sinking in slowly.

A father.

Sometimes he feels so confused, so startled, so surprised when he looks at Wally, looks closely and notices the roundness in his stomach, and thinks carefully on the fact that they’ve only just begun, they’re at the beginning now. That small bump will only get bigger, and in the following months they’re going to reach a point where it’ll be evident, obvious and visibly clear to everyone-

And they’ll reach a point, eventually. Not now, not any time soon, but… in a rapidly approaching future. They will reach the point, that point of no return when everyone will know Wally is carrying a baby. They will reach a point when the only logical conclusion will be that it’s his.

He’ll need to be honest. He’ll need to be fair. He’ll need to find it within himself to be shamed, to be ridiculed, to be insulted, to be hated. To be judged, because he went too far with a desire he couldn’t control.

But on some days, he doesn’t feel guilty. He feels sorry for Wally, when he’s in distress. When he’s sick, when he’s tired, when he’s confused, when he’s depressed. He feels sorry for what he’s caused him.

But he doesn’t regret that it’s all happening with _him_. He doesn’t regret that he’s the man that did this. He doesn’t regret that he’s going to take the fall. That he’s going to be the one everyone hates.

Because with Wally… Wally, this beautiful person he loves so much, Wally-

When he remembers, the thought crashing in with a startling clarity, that Wally is carrying _his_ baby, it’s-

It’s overwhelming. It chokes him up. It renders him unable to speak, unable to do much of anything that doesn’t involve kissing him, kissing his stomach, pretending he’s just goofing around when he’s really only desperate to find an outlet for his sudden and incomprehensible joy.

He expresses happiness in many ways. And right now, it’s being explained through the kisses across his lover’s body, feather-light hands roaming across his skin, curious fingers wanting to touch, to feel, to savor every inch of him, every part of him.

_Because he belongs to me._

Yes. He belongs to him now. So it’s important that he takes very good care of him. It’s not just about the baby. It’s about Wally. For Wally’s happiness. For Wally’s future.

He needs to be a better man than he has ever been.

Better than he ever needed to be before.

-

Wally’s panting slowly to himself, deep breaths, deep breaths as Barry gently thrusts in and out, in and out, pushing and moving at a slow rhythm. Uncharacteristically slow, unnaturally slow; he’s almost being too cautious, pulling out far enough to tease his entrance down there with a gentle pressing of the head of his cock against his skin, before he slides it back in.

Wally moans when it moves back into place, as he can feel how hard Barry is, how hard and aroused he is, the way his cock does not give as it forces its way inside.

There’s a moment when Wally realizes that the entirety of Barry’s penis is inside him. He doesn’t think, he just moves; he shifts into place, winding his legs around the man’s thighs to keep him still, to keep him there. He can’t hold tightly enough to force him not to move, but-

There’s just something about it. Wally wants to feel him inside him. He doesn’t care about the thrusts. Doesn’t care about the stimulation to his clit, or the way the friction feels when Barry’s in motion. Right now, maybe only for right now, he just wants _this_ , the feeling of being connected. The realization that right now, Barry’s cock is so far inside, so close, so _close_ to the cervix, pressed so close to the entrance of where he gave Wally a baby.

Wally moans as Barry takes the hint and thrusts very slightly, slightly, rocking inside him with a rhythm that’s restrained and erotic. Thrusts that never pull all the way back, working subtly as more of a massage inside his body than the rough and furious sex they were accustomed to.

Despite how composed he looks, Barry’s feeling it too. He gets it. He understands.

“Remember this,” he’s asking with a grin tugging at his lips, as he pushes in deeper, and begins to vibrate himself at a low frequency. Wally’s cringing on the other side, trembling from the sudden sparks of pleasure that echo through his body. The vibration increases, Wally curls his toes, closes his eyes and opens his mouth to pant slowly. Barry’s leaning forward slightly, speaking intimately, his lust distorting his voice with a hint of a growl, “This is how it happened, right.”

The vibration increases, as he reaches a hand down to his clit, fingers pressing against it gently, a soothing pressure that sets his nerves on fire. A slow massage, fingers pressing and rubbing, pressing-

Barry’s voice a near-pained murmur—his lust is showing, it’s showing—“What did I say,” he’s almost breathless, and he’s vibrating as close to the cervix as he can reach; “You’re giving me a baby. That’s what I said,” as he licks against Wally’s chest, causing his body to arch up against him from the startling contact of wet saliva on warm skin. “And look what happened,” a whisper as he starts to explore, his tongue roaming and finding one of Wally’s nipples, kissing and sucking on it as he continues to thrust.

He bites against it for an instant; Wally gasps out loud, hips instinctively rolling forward. He spreads his legs open, as far as they’ll go. Barry sits up, and slides as far forward as he can, so far, Barry’s pressed flush against his body.

His cock vibrating against his cervix, as Wally starts to bite his lip to ease some of the sparks of pain dizzyingly blurring with his pleasure.

“If I come right here,” Barry’s thrusting again, pushing against it every time, the friction, the vibrating, as Wally moans and sighs beneath him. “If I come inside you right here, can I give you another one-” Wally’s rolling his hips, he’s moaning as Barry’s fingers are massaging his clit in slow circles. He’s licking at Wally’s chest, licking wherever he can reach, tasting him as he murmurs between the kisses and caresses with his tongue, “I’ll come inside you, I’ll fill you up,” in between chewing against his sensitive skin, and scattered and wet kisses, “Let me give you another one,” kisses that sound vulgar and loud, as his fingers rub in circles, circles dancing around his clit, vibrating his hand to push gently against it. The blood’s rushing, blood’s rushing to it, the nerves on fire, nerves on fire as Wally’s giving incoherent moans and gaps and whimpers, panting so hard his lips stay parted, his mouth open. “I’ll give you another one,” his voice uneven, his words breaking in between his own gasps and sighs, “and another,” sighs in between the kisses, a sudden moan as he feels Wally’s body tightening around him, feels him approaching the brink of orgasm as he tenses and tenses around his cock, “and another,” he’s starting to shake, he continues to vibrate, glancing up to catch the sight of Wally’s flushed face, his closed eyes, his lustful and desperate moans escaping lips wet with his own saliva.

Barry trails kisses along his collarbone, on a slow journey to reach that mouth, to silence those gasps in a beautiful way- He briefly smoothes his hand over Wally’s stomach, smoothes over in meandering circles, as his lover shivers against his touch. So sensitive, so delicate-

“Do you like carrying my baby, Wally,” an erotic whisper against his jaw, as he licks his way to his lips, kissing them as Wally pants and moans into the kiss. “Do you want to have my baby, Wally,” a murmur against his mouth that ends in another, a mutual expression of affection as their tongues meet for the first time. Slow caresses, a taste of each other as Barry holds himself in place, vibrating inside his lover as Wally starts to hiss to himself, and he starts to lose his composure.

Deep breaths, deep breaths, deep breaths-

When Wally comes, he moans against the side of Barry’s face, a desperate moan that’s almost broken and in despair. His body tightens around Barry’s cock in the most beautiful way, and the man exhales a low groan as he feels his lover coming, feels his cock grow slick with the juices of his cum, feels the warmth surround him, the heat between their bodies-

Wally resumes kissing him, kissing him with a startling amount of affection as he whimpers through the rest of their union, whines to himself as he comes down from his orgasm. Barry’s kissing him back with equal adoration, kissing and chewing gently on his lips until he has to stop, to moan against Wally’s neck as he tenses and comes, comes and feels even more aroused as he fills his lover with cum, wishing they both had the endurance to fuck all over again. Because the feel of his own cum inside his lover, the feel of his own cum around his dick is- it’s so-

He wants to push it inside him. He wants to try and fail, like he know he will, to push that cum inside him and-

He calms himself with a slow sigh, unwinding some of the tension from his body as he leans back, leans back and gives Wally another quick kiss to the mouth.

He could fuck Wally until he was too exhausted to move. He could fuck Wally until they were both more than satisfied, little more than exhausted, sweating and messy bodies on the bed, half-comatose, the cum leaking out of Wally’s body-

But Wally is in a delicate state; he’s not himself. He doesn’t have his usual endurance, and Barry will respect that. As difficult as it is. Because Wally’s already too kind to him. He indulges his kinks, indulges his sick cravings and his ambitious and impossible wants-

Wally’s smiling at him gently, tiredness showing in his half-closed eyes as he murmurs, “You say the craziest things.”

Barry sighs, but he smiles back to communicate his good intention, “does it bother you?”

Wally grins, almost giggling at him, “No.” The blush on his face gives him away. “I think… I like it.”

Barry gives a small laugh, a murmured, “Good,” as he leans down and kisses him again.

Wally’s laughing back, the kind of laugh that’s too tired to be enthusiastic, but attempted with a profoundly kind affection, as he loosely winds his arms around his shoulders.

Secretly, ever so secretly, Wally loves every single thing Barry would say. He loves every vulgar, horrible thing that leaves his mouth. Every erotic threat; every forceful statement. Every cautioning that he’s going to get him pregnant, because oh _God_ there were few things that he’d ever wanted more than to carry his baby, even when he’d first started masturbating to thoughts of him-

He’d just never admitted it before. He didn’t have that level of confidence yet. He didn’t have that lack of shame that Barry did, to voice it out loud.

But inside his head, when he hears those things… The voice inside is always repeating back, _Yes._ That voice that grows more frantic with each thrust, _Yes_.

He’s shaking, the way he always does when he realizes that the fantasy is now a reality. That fantasy, the dream that’d only existed in the edges of his perverted mind. The kink that he and Barry shared in common by complete chance, that he’d never thought would enter their lives and manifest.

It’s almost a miracle. It feels like one, when he isn’t preoccupied with the stress. Or the illness. Or the exhaustion. It feels like a dangerous blurring of two worlds, of the half of himself that loves being Barry’s fuck toy, and the other that wants to nurture and care for something that he and Barry made as lovers.

Lovers in love, and not just the kind that makes you wanna have sex.

But somehow, for however confusing it is, it seems right. He’s adjusting. He’s getting there. He’s getting more okay with it every day. A few more hugs. A few more kisses. A few more compliments from Barry, and he should feel okay.

And maybe, just maybe, he might start to feel proud.

-

Wally steps out of the shower, looking cautiously in the mirror as he dries himself off. He’s almost scared to look each day. Almost frightened.

He doesn’t mind that it shows, when it’s just him and Barry. When they’re lounging around, talking together, when he catches the obvious hints of his lover’s happiness. There’s something pleasant about it, something pleasant about being able to glance down at himself and see the evidence.

But that’s the same thought that terrifies him, around other people. Around his parents, because he still hasn’t told his father. Around classmates when he drags himself to school, because he could never tell the truth without unending ridicule. Around his teammates, because he doesn’t want to face their disappointment or judgment. Especially them, because he doesn’t want his own friends to ever think so low of him. To think he’s not only a freak, but just another teen that screwed up and got pregnant. He’s seen the way they laugh at the shows on tv. He knows what they think of those girls.

And he might be a teen that made a mistake, but he didn’t need them to throw that in his face. He didn’t want to ever hear their laughter sent in his direction. He wants them all to react exactly like Megan; a calm smile and little more. Maybe a hug or two if they feel especially kind.

He sighs, the way he often does when he starts his day. Sighs, and knows he has no choice but to get moving. Move on and get it done, and hope nothing happens. Hope for a lack of significant confrontations or arguments or discussions.

But he knows he’s running full speed towards the train. The light’s in his face; he doesn’t have much time before it hits him. He doesn’t have enough time. There’s never enough time to delay the inevitable. Because the more he shows, the more he approaches that point. When everyone will have to know. When everyone he wants to accept him, to understand, to forgive… possibly, probably won’t. Not for this.

It’s scary. And he doesn’t like feeling scared.

He does what Barry says he should do. Don’t dwell on it. Don’t focus on it.

But that gets more difficult every day.

-

The room is cold, and quiet. He can hear the doctor’s own breathing, as she’s sitting beside him. His mother is giving a faint sigh, as she sits in a chair a few feet away, tense, she’s so tense. Her eyes are dark and her mouth is non-expressive; it’s an unsettling expression to see from his own mother.

He wishes he could have brought Barry instead. Oh, how he wishes he could have brought Barry with him.

Because he just heard the most beautiful sound in the world. Urgent and fast, and unmistakable.

A heartbeat.

What Barry would have done… The smile on his face…

Wally sighs to himself, as the doctor sends him a questioning glance. But he can’t explain it to her. Not at all.

_The father of my baby can’t experience this with me._

It hurts.

-

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough?”

Wally looks across the table; his father’s staring right back at him. He gives an impulsive response, “But I’m still hungry,” as he resumes serving more spoonfuls of mashed potatoes onto his plate.

“That’s your third serving,” his father grumbles. “You can’t still be hungry.”

His mother gives a small sigh; Wally knows it’s because she’s lying. She keeps her voice moderately upbeat and well-meaning, “A growing boy needs to eat, Rudy.”

“Yeah, but how much?” he sounds increasingly exasperated. “He’s gaining weight, Mary-”

“He’s a speedster,” she scolds him; the blatant lie, “I’m sure he’ll burn it right off.”

“But that’s my point,” Rudy’s snapping back, “If he’s gaining weight, with his metabolism, he’s eating way too much. It’s absurd.”

Wally digs into his plate, trying to downplay the entire conversation. Maybe if he ignores it well enough, it’ll go away...

“Don’t make him feel bad,” Mary gently cautions him.

“I mean, just look at that,” Rudy’s even pointing, now.

Wally looks up at him, making eye contact for long enough to notice just how… irritated the man looks. He’s confused by his strong reaction, but his annoyance is not enough to ruin his appetite. So he eats in silence, unsure of what to say.

“Just _stop_ already,” Rudy tells him.

Wally pauses.

“Rudy, please,” Mary’s raising her voice.

“No- why,” he shakes his head, “Look at him, he’s eating us out of house and home. And he’s going to get fat-”

“Rudy,” Mary hisses.

“And what the hell use is a fat superhero,” the man can’t stop himself; once he gets worked up, he doesn’t quit. “How the hell fast can you run, if-”

“Rudy, wait-”

“I mean come on, it’s not rocket science. Haven’t you seen him lately? Take a look, Mary. Look at him.”

“Rudy. Honey.”

“Don’t _honey_ me-”

She hits her hand against the table.

For the first time, the man falls silent. Eyes widening, incredulously as they stare at each other. Anger between them, and an obvious lack of communication. Her lie is starting to reveal itself. Her deception.

“What’s going on,” Rudy says in a low voice.

“Nothing,” she quips back. “I just need you to calm down-”

“What’s going on with Wally.”

“Nothi-”

A small voice from the other side of the table,

“I’m pregnant.”

His mother’s staring at him in horror, and what could only be described as disappointment.

His father is… his father is…

“What,” his voice tense and quiet.

“I’m having a…” his throat is tensing up; it’s already getting difficult to speak. “I’mhavingababy.”

Silence. He can almost feel their anger. Feel the stress. The sudden onset of fear, of rage, the glare being sent in his direction.

Biting his lip, he continues to stare at his plate.

“Are you sure,” just like his mother when he told her, his father wants to believe. He wants to believe he’s just mistaken. “Are you absolutely sure-”

“We’ve been to the doctor,” Mary chimes in. She suddenly sounds exhausted, “It’s been confirmed.”

Silence.

“Wally.”

“Yeah,” he finally glances up.

“Your mother and I need a moment alone.”

Wally starts to feel himself trembling. Must be the stress. He nods and stands up. Quietly leaves the room, feeling the inevitable shame as his father’s eyes are on him, no doubt scrutinizing his body, noticing just how much weight he’s gained, the realization that it’s not at all what he’d assumed, and-

He starts to hear them yelling at each other, the moment he closes the door behind him. His father is asking her why he wasn’t told, how did this happen, how long has she known. She’s getting angry, she’s saying she knew he’d react badly, she didn’t want to stress him, and she was more worried about Wally-

He cringes when he hears his name. Because he knows what’s about to come next.

“Who’s the father?”

He closes his eyes.

“Who did this,” his father’s booming voice. “Who the hell did this.”

His mother trying to calm him down; her words get quieter and less comprehensible.

“Who the hell knocked him up?”

A quiet murmur. A short explanation. A defense.

“Who the fuck did this.”

Another murmur. Wally hopes, hopes to God and all above, that she’s not telling him.

But they fall silent. Too silent.

And then. And then-

“I’ll fucking kill him.”

-

Wally is not scared. Not for Barry. But he’s…

He feels like he made a mistake. But what was he supposed to do? He can’t hide it, he can’t just act like it doesn’t exist- And his father was starting to notice-

He’s feeling too exhausted to visit Barry, so instead he calls him on the phone. Discreetly, as he sits perched on his bed, door closed and room silent, far away from the argument his parents are having.

“Hi baby,” is the kind voice on the other side.

But he can’t even pretend to be in a good mood, to greet him. Not today.

“Wally?” because he hasn’t responded back yet.

“I told my dad.”

“W… What?”

“I told my dad. He knows.”

A response of silence.

“I’m s-sorry.”

“No, Wally. Wally,” he’s buying time to think; he always delays when he’s trying to think, “Wally, it’s… It’s okay.”

“I didn’t mean to, it just kinda slipped out-”

“It’s okay, baby. You had to.”

“I guess,” he sighs.

“You had to. He had to know, right?”

“He noticed that I… looked different…”

“Yeah, exactly. You had to tell him. You had to tell the truth.”

“I guess…”

“You had to. Okay?” because Barry knows that if he’s not insistent, Wally will continue to blame himself.

“Okay,” he nods, even if the man can’t see it.

A faint creak of the door. Wally glances up in alarm, because he knows-

Barry’s looking back, snapping his phone shut as he presses the door shut behind him.

“Barry,” Wally’s voice a startled whisper.

“Hey, baby,” his voice faint and hesitant. He knows better than to speak any louder.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Wally’s frowning at him, “it’s not safe right now-”

“Shh,” he moves in, crawling across the bed to where he is. Leaning over him, a quiet and firm kiss to his mouth. Wally kisses him back. “Are you okay,” Barry’s asking, with a hand on his shoulder.

“Yeah,” Wally nods, “I… I think so.”

They both know he’s lying, but Barry accepts it. “Okay,” he nods. Kisses him on the side of the face, and murmurs, “Just making sure.”

Wally nods, trying to fight the blush creeping across his cheeks.

Another kiss, one that lingers for a few seconds linger, and a quiet whisper, “Goodnight, baby.”

Wally smiles, “Goodnight, Barry.”

A smile returned to him, and a sudden blur; the door creaks on its own, moving back into place. The empty room, as Wally sighs to himself and stares at the place where Barry was, closes his eyes and pleasantly dwells in the feel of his kiss, and the stirrings of affection he feels whenever he’s around.

When Barry’s around, he just wants to hold onto him, and never let go. But he knows that’s not possible. Not for them.

But when Barry kisses him, kisses him and says something sweet like that, it all seems worth it.

All this stress is worth it, to be in a love like this.

Just to be in love.

-

It’s terrifying. He is absolutely terrified.

He never thought he’d be afraid of something like this.

He’s taken hits to the face before. To the body. To his legs, hard enough to bruise before the marks would vanish. Most of the time he’s hit in the chest. Sometimes the stomach-

Squeaks of tennis shoes against the floor, echoing in the high-ceilings of the gym. The repetitive bounce of the ball against the ground, being thrown around with pent-up rage and energy, by peers that have no concern or understanding for anyone else’s well-being. That _boom_ , every time it hits the floor, the softer impact sound when another person gets hit, whines and walks off.

If he can get hit in a safe part of his body, that’s his ticket out of the game. But if he gets hit in the stomach, he’s-

Realistically, he knows a fucking dodgeball won’t cause any serious damage. But that’s not something he wants to risk. It’s not something he’s brave enough to try. Because what if that’s the one-time it hits harder; what if that’s the one time someone throws it from only a few feet away. Up goes the speed, up goes the impact, up goes the force against his body-

He dodges at the last second, startled by a close call. It’s rare that he ever cares enough to be good at the game, but considering how long he’s been in this round, he’s showing a surprising amount of skill at it. He’s not throwing the ball back as much as he should; he’s too preoccupied. Too scared. Too nervous.

During another close call, he sees a perfect opportunity; happens to turn himself sideways at the last minute, reaching out an arm like he’s trying to protect himself, and allows it to get hit and take the impact.

It feels like… nothing, really. A brief spark of soreness before it dissolves. He shakes out his hand to alleviate what discomfort remains, and idly starts his stroll off the court, taking extra care to put on a disappointed expression.

Almost squeaks when someone feels mischievous, and throws another ball towards him anyway. Finds himself hissing in irritation, because _dammit_ that came from a weird angle and he almost didn’t see it, before he makes it to safety, and takes a seat on a bench.

He’s watching the rest of the game in silence, when he hears a gruff voice speak from above; glancing up to see his instructor, with a stern look in his eyes. “Wallace, do you have a minute?”

No. He doesn’t have anything to say. Doesn’t want to say anything at all.

“Sure.”

He ignores the curious stares. Ignores his own stress as much as he can, but it’s still heavy on his shoulders. Heavy, heavy. Because he doesn’t have a good excuse to replace this truth.

They sit down, up high in the bleachers, out of hearing range for everyone else. The game, plainly seen, continues to thunder and rumble down below. And for now, his classmates have stopped staring.

“Wallace,” the man begins slowly, but he jumps straight to the point, “Is there something the matter with you?”

“What,” he feigns his ignorance, giving a nervous chuckle that sounds more forced than surprised.

“I mean,” the man frowns, “I know Dodgeball isn’t your favorite sport…”

“Yeah, I suck at it,” he warmly lies. But that’s an easy lie, because he’s never cared enough to be good at it before. It was never worth the risk of showing his actual talent for speed.

“But are you… afraid of the ball?” the man’s staring at him critically, deep frown lines spreading across his forehead.

Wally winces. Because everything in his mind is screaming, _Yes_ , and that makes it so hard to object.

“I mean, that’s okay if you are,” the man tries to caution, “But it’s not gonna hurt you. I mean,” he almost has to hold back a laugh, “We all know you’ve been hit before.”

“Right.”

“I mean, it’s never hurt that bad, has it?”

“Ri-. No,” he shakes his head.

“Well, okay.” He pauses. “So what’s the problem?”

“Nothing,” Wally gives a shrug, but it apparently doesn’t look genuine enough, because the man is still staring at him.

“Wallace.”

“Yes, sir?”

“You were running around down there like a scared chicken.”

“A scared what,” he has to laugh at that.

“You know what I mean,” he grumbles. “Now if I didn’t know better, I’d say you were afraid… and it’d just be nice to know why.”

“Oh.”

“I mean, is there some way to address this? Is there something we can do differently for you? Do you need to see the counselor, or-”

“No, nothing,” he speaks in too much of a hurry.

“What?” because he didn’t really catch it.

“I’m fine. I’m not that scared. I’m okay,” he sends a weak smile. “I just don’t feel well, so maybe I was acting weird?”

“You’re sick?” he’s giving another deep frown.

“No, sir. Not really. …sort of,” and he’s realizing what an awful liar he is.

“Wallace, if you need to speak to somebody-”

“No, not at all,” he stands up, feeling too uncomfortable to continue the conversation. “But thanks for asking,” he shrugs with a calm smile, as he nervously turns away.

He can feel the man’s stare, can feel his frustration, his annoyance. But that’s not enough to make him turn back. Because these lies, the tension, the disappointment… It’s all better than dealing with the truth.

He should turn around. Turn around, and admit that yes, he’s terrified and can he please not play this game anymore.

But sometimes, even he has pride. And it can be a bitch.

-

Another afternoon at Mount Justice. This time, he’s prepared. To not starve, anyway. No mission today, but he’s armed with enough food to last him for days.

Today is a training day. Combat training.

 _Shit_ , he wants to curse because that’s little more than a terrifying repeat of gym class this morning. Except with opponents that hit a lot harder. Opponents that know what they’re doing, and actually will knock him onto the floor.

Dinah is standing before them, arms crossed as she invites the first student, a name she seems to randomly select, “Robin.”

The kid has a jump in his step, but it’s more from joy than anything. A smile already forming on his face, as he eagerly scoots forward and plants his feet a short distance away from her. He’s beaming, “Ready.”

Wally envies his enthusiasm.

There’s a lot to be learned, from watching Dick in motion. His fearlessness. His agility. His swiftness. He’s so confident that he never hesitates, and because he never hesitates, he doesn’t falter. He completes every jump. Lands perfectly and tumbles into a roll whenever he needs to; he can evade nearly anything, almost anyone. So it takes Dinah a significant amount of effort to ever make contact with him.

But because he’s so swift, because he’s so light on his feet, when he gets hit, he falls harder. It startles him. It throws off his composure for a moment, before he springs back up.

He’s shaking his head, but he’s polite enough to casually ask what he did wrong.

Dinah clarifies, “You overcompensated for your hurt arm.”

Dick gasps to himself. His other team members suppress an immediate wave of shock. Even Wally had no idea of that. A hurt arm? From where? From what…

“How did you know,” he stares up at her in disbelief.

“You were favoring it,” she confirms. “You didn’t use your full strength on that side. You failed to complete your final swing towards me.”

“Oh,” he nods in a quiet tone. But that’s a good thing, from him. That means he’s thinking it over. That means he’s learning. Even when he smirks to himself, shakes his head and steps off the platform, he’s deep in thought. Eyes focused, he barely looks at the others.

“Dude,” Wally asks, leaning in towards him, “Hurt arm?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he quickly replies, “Just a strain from the last mission.”

“Oh, okay-”

“Kid Flash.”

“What?” he looks up suddenly, startled out of their conversation.

“You’re up,” Dinah waves at him.

No. He can’t.

_I can’t._

“Uh, well-” he’s stalling, but he has no good excuse. “I-”

If Dinah is that observant, she’ll know. She’ll know right away. She’ll know something’s wrong, but that didn’t stop her from knocking down Dick, and it won’t stop her from-

“I-I’m sorry,” he’s tripping over the words, “I’m gonna sit this one out.”

“What,” she narrows her eyes at him. “Kid Flash, this is a mandatory exercise-”

“I know but I… I’m not feeling well,” as he nervously steps back. Her glare is intimidating. Her dark eyes are almost as frightening as Batman’s trademark scowl.

“Are you sick?” she tilts her head.

“Yes,” a voice quickly chimes in, with a higher pitch and significantly more confidence than his. He looks to where it came from, and sees exactly what he expects. Megan.

And he’s hoping she’s a better liar than he is. Even if he doubts it-

“He’s been ill for a few weeks,” she defends. “He’s not really himself.”

“Oh,” Dinah shrugs. “I’ll be gentler, then.”

That is… Not the answer he wanted.

“Come on,” Wally’s laughing, but it sounds as forced as it is, “Can we talk about this?”

“I’m listening,” Dinah starts to get annoyed.

“Can we… talk about it later?”

“No,” with a sigh. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“N-no,” he whines. Shit, this is not going well- And he knows his team is starting to get confused, he knows they’re about to start asking questions-

“Okay, what’s the pr-”

“You might hurt him,” Megan’s voice is almost a squeak.

Dinah pauses. Gives her a confused look. “Hurt him,” she speaks slowly. Cautiously. And Wally can hear the silence in the room.

“Yes,” but she’s hesitant to say anything else. Wally notices her immediate silence, and thanks his lucky stars, God above or whatever, that she’s not revealing more.

But her excuse is not good enough. Dinah’s stare is unsettling. It makes him nervous. She finally says, after some contemplation, “You do look odd.”

He tenses up.

“Like your…” she frowns.

“Like how he’s getting big around the midsection?” a voice out of nowhere.

Artemis. Of course. Wally’s cringing, because he knows she doesn’t have a knack for being subtle.

“What,” Artemis is shrugging, as Dinah’s eyes grow wide. “Someone had to say it.”

Wally has to try. He has to try. “M-my metabolism… is all… it’s…” he can’t even finish that one. It’s too far from the truth. His metabolism is working too well. That’s not going to answer anything.

“I have noticed that as well,” and there’s Kaldur, the voice of reason. At least he’s more polite. “Kid Flash, if your metabolism is not functioning correctly, there may be a problem with your powers-“

He bites his lip. He doesn’t know what they’ll conclude if he leaves them to their own musings, but it’ll likely work better than anything he’d say.

“But he can still run fine,” Dick muses out loud. “Right?” he glances at him, but Wally can’t meet his eyes.

“Kid Flash,” there goes Dinah again. “Is there something you want to tell us?”

“I.. um.”

Silence. _Dammit_ he needs to say something.

Because he’s not ready. He’s not ready. But…

“It’s just…” he gives them what little he can, “My body’s acting weird. Metabolism’s weird. I’ve been kinda sick. That’s all.”

Silence.

“That’s all, really.”

“That sounds…” Artemis has a rare moment of concern, “Serious.”

“It’s not,” he shrugs, “I swear. There’s nothing wrong with me. Okay guys?” He looks around at them, and gives a weak smile, “Nothing to worry about.”

And suddenly, a voice inside his head.

_Why don’t you tell them?_

He feels his chest tighten.

He answers her, _I can’t. It’s too weird._

And Megan responds, _But they’d understand. They’re just worried right now. They don’t know what’s going on._

_I know._

_What if Dinah hurts you, Wally? What if she hurts the baby?_

He closes his eyes for a moment. _She won’t. I’m not going up there._

_But what if someone else does? What if you get hurt on a mission, and they have no idea how serious it is? If they don’t know, they can’t protect you-_

Sighs to himself.

Silence. Silence, all around.

“My…” he starts again. Addresses the silence, hoping the reaction will be better this time. “My... healing isn’t working properly.”

A gasp; probably from Megan. Relief, that he’s saying something. Anything.

“I can’t heal from… certain injuries. Idon’tknowifIcan. I’m trying not to risk it.”

There’s no way for him to find out if an injury _there_ would heal. No way without having it happen, and seeing the result. And he is not willing to take that chance.

“So your speed is acting up,” Dinah nods at him.

“Yes-”

“You can’t heal properly,” she thinks out loud, “You’re gaining weight, so your metabolism is slowing down. And you’re feeling sick.” She crosses her arms.

He can’t lie to her face, so instead he bows his head and lets her think what she will.

“Have you spoken to the Flash about this?”

And there it is again. That pressure in his chest. “Yes.”

“And he doesn’t know the problem?”

 _Shit_ , shit. “He does.”

He knows the question she’s going to ask. He knows it before she says it.

“Can you tell me what it is?”

Silence. He can’t. He just can’t.

“If we speak in private,” she lowers her voice, “Can we discuss this?”

No, they can’t. They can’t.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles.

“Wally,” this time, it’s from Dick. He can hear the hurt in his voice. “Why can’t you tell us?”

“I…”

“Aren’t we your friends?”

He chews on his bottom lip, with a low murmur, “Yes.”

“Don’t you trust us?”

That answer is more difficult. Does he trust them to listen, yes. Does he trust them to accept it, maybe. Does he trust them to support him…

He sighs.

 _Tell them,_ again from Megan, a more emotional pleading this time. _You need to tell them, Wally._

He raises his hand to his face, pressing his fingers over his eyes to alleviate the tension behind them. Bows his head, because he can’t face any of them. He can’t look at any of them. Not if he’s about to say what he might say, what he wants to say, what he needs to say-

He wants to ask Megan to do it. Wants her to be the bearer of the news, to deliver it softly and kindly as only she could. But that’s a coward’s move. And it’d do little to ease Dick’s concern. Because if he couldn’t even tell them, how were they supposed to feel.

“I’m pregnant.”

An immediate laughter. Nervous giggling. An annoyed groan, and even a glare from Dinah.

“Wally,” she’s even using his name, “That is not…”

“It’s true.”

Everyone pauses. Stops. Falls silent, as Megan sheepishly moves to stand beside him. A hand on his shoulder.

“He’s telling the truth.”

It’s easy to stir the silence in the room. Nervous as he is. Nervous as he’s always been.

“I’m… a few months in, now,” as he stares at the floor. “And it’s just going to get worse, so…”

God, the silence is so painful. But at least it feels like he’s speaking to no one. Alleviates the pressure.

“I’m sorry,” as he wipes at his eyes, when he feels them watering slightly, the emotions and stress rising to the surface. “I’m sorry, I’m gonna be pretty useless for a while,” he even manages a small smirk.

 _Don’t apologize. Please don’t apologize,_ the hand on his shoulder tightens.

But he doesn’t really have an answer for her.

He cries into that silence, the silence that has no words, no answers. No feedback, no response. Only shock, the kind that’s slow to come around and even slower to sink in.

Megan’s arm around his shoulders. It doesn’t provide much comfort, but he appreciates the gesture.

“Wally…” Dinah’s voice is hollow. And when he glances up to look, her eyes are heavy and still. “How did this happen?”

He starts to cry even harder. A sob escapes. Because this is the secret that even Megan doesn’t know.

No one knows. No one except his family, who handle the issue with some shame. No one except Barry, who’d be prompt to explain and defend it, if only he were here. If only he were here, but he’s so far away, and it’d be ridiculous to call him for something like this…

Well, and there is one other person that knows, but he is definitely too far away right now.

“I’m not normal,” he manages, his throat showing the strain of speaking, “I… My body is… It’s all screwed up.”

Dinah’s eyes are widening.

“I’m sorry, it’s just screwed up,” between the sobs, as Megan starts to massage his shoulder, her touch gentle and light.

_You’re not screwed up, Wally._

“I am,” he answers her out loud, his voice breaking, “I’m screwed up-”

He hears the shuffling before he sees any of it. Hears the footsteps as they come closer, his friends flocking around him like he’s wounded. Dinah slowly stepping forward, as she opens her arms to him.

When he moves into her embrace, he feels the warmth he does when he’s with Barry. Reassured and supported, like everything that’s wrong with him is not such a big deal anymore.

There’s still that silence. But it’s better now. It’s better, somehow.

He knows they have questions. He knows he may struggle like this, with each answer. But with Dinah holding him like this, and as long as feels his friends so near to him, as long as he feels like they care, then maybe-

He’s gonna get through this. Just a little bit easier.

-

And as the silence started to settle and become more comfortable, a booming voice intrudes into the room. _Recognized. Red Arrow. B06._

Heavy footsteps, boots echoing through the room as he approaches, walking upright and tall with his usual sense of purpose.

“R-Ro-Speedy,” Wally slinks out of Dinah’s arms, turning to him in a sort of panic.

Roy’s rolling his eyes at the name, “Hey,” as he pauses, and looks around at everyone. He immediately frowns, noticing the tension in the air. “Did I miss something?”

“I thought you were in Dubai,” Wally’s eyes are widening, even as he stands next to Dinah like a frightened child.

“Yeah, the assignment got cut short, so…” he pauses, tilting his head as he stares at him. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing,” he says quickly. Too quickly. “Good to see you,” with a blatantly false smile.

Yeah, just his luck. The only other person that knew his secret, returned from across the world.

“Thought I’d drop by…” Roy waltzes closer, looking skeptically at everyone else. The frown on his face deepens, “Will someone tell me what’s going on.”

“We were just talking,” Megan suggests cheerfully.

“Do you have a mission for us?” Wally volunteers, even giving his usual trademark grin.

“That can wait.”

Damn.

Roy’s staring at him now, frowning as he looks him up and down. Up and-Shit. Because his gaze stops around his midsection, before it drifts back up to his face.

They exchange a look.

“Kid-”

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean for anything to happen,” in a rush of words.

Roy’s eyes grow wide. “So that’s… That’s…” he looks again at his stomach, frowning in confusion. He takes a step back. “Is that what I think it is?”

“Probably,” Artemis grumbles.

Roy sends her a glare, over his shoulder. He was never enthused to see her, especially not in a tense moment like this.

“Wally,” he uses his name for emphasis. Wally starts to hide behind Dinah. “Wally,” he repeats, his voice deepening. He tilts his head, “What’s happening around your…”

“You missed it,” Artemis nearly sings at him. She enjoys the thrill of having something to hold over his head; maybe too much. “He said that someone put a ba-” a rush of hands, as Megan clasps her hands over her mouth.

Megan smiles at Roy, “I think it’d be better if Wally told you.”

But the moment Megan releases her hands, Artemis takes a breath and says, “Put a baby inside him.” She sighs, and looks at Megan, “See, was that so hard? We don’t even know the details yet, anyway-”

But Roy’s not looking at her anymore. He’s walking towards Wally, as Dinah steps aside, taking herself out of the conflict. When Roy comes to stand before Wally, a trembling, shaking Wally, he’s staring down at him almost cautiously, a frown still lingering on his face as his eyes roam over his body again, scrutinizing, searching, studying. His voice is stern when he speaks, “So I leave for a few months…”

“Yes?” Wally’s wide eyes, as he bites his lip.

“And he knocks you up?”

The shame. He’d underestimated the shame. Because no one has ever looked at him, never, in the way that Roy is now.

Roy takes a deep sigh.

Artemis, her voice small and uncertain, “Wait, so you believe him?”

“Of course I do,” Roy growls so suddenly, she visibly leans away from him.

Because he knows. He knows what Wally’s body is capable of. He’s known about this risk.

When Roy speaks again, his tone is softer, as he leans closer to Wally and asks, almost against the side of his face, “It’s him, isn’t it?”

Wally can’t speak; not right away.

“Answer me.”

Wally stares back. Stares back, as Roy meets his eyes. Wally nods. Roy tightens his lips into a straight line. Nods once, and steps back. Turns away.

Turns away, and curses out, “I’m gonna fucking kill him.”

“R-Roy,” Wally whines, “Come on…”

“I’m gonna kill him,” he turns back to face him, the frown deepening behind his mask, his face contorting viciously as he spits out the words, “I’m gonna take a fucking arrow and I’m gonna shove it right through him.”

“Roy-”

“I’m gonna shove it through his body, I’m gonna watch him _bleed_ to death, and I’m gonna leave it in there while he recovers, just to twist it and fucking watch him _die_ again-”

“Holy shit,” even Dick is surprised, as his jaw drops.

“And when _that_ happens, I am going to take another arrow, and shove it through his face, right through his eyes-”

“Roy,” this time it’s Dinah, her voice deep in a startling moment of clarity, “Shut up.”

Roy stops, shaking his head at her, a grimace at his lips as he tries to calm himself.

“Calm down,” she holds her hands out, motioning to him as she steps forward. “Let’s deal with this like adults.”

“Like he fucking did,” in a snarl.

“I don’t know who, or what you’re talking about,” she clarifies, “but let’s all be calm and _discuss_ this.”

Roy visibly twitches.

“Roy,” Wally’s tiny voice, as he tries again.

Roy sighs.

Wally approaches him slowly, hesitantly, nervously because he knows Roy is still inspecting his body, he know he’s still in disbelief, he knows he’s still furious-

He does the only thing he knows how. The only way he’s ever known to soothe him when he gets like this. When Roy lets his rage consume him, when he lets his impulsive anger make him irrational-

He steps behind him, and slides his arms around his waist. Leans against his back, ignoring the startled gasps and half-laughs from his team. He even catches sight of, and ignores the curiously amused look from Dinah, as she raises an eyebrow.

Roy sighs again. Because a hug from Wally is his secret weapon. It’s a powerful, dangerous thing. He shakes his head. He says it again, but more quietly this time, “I’m gonna kill him.”

“Please, Roy,” Wally’s voice a murmur against his back. “He’s been really good to me.”

“Good how?” the sarcasm is evident, “besides ruining your life-”

“He’s not,” Wally pleads with him, his hold around him tightening, “It’s gonna be okay.”

“No it’s not, Wally,” another sigh.

Wally doesn’t respond; he just makes a sound, somewhere between a complaint and a sob.

Roy glances down, noticing that sound; he’s weakened by that sound. “He’s taking care of you,” his voice flat but not as angry as before.

“Yes,” Wally’s quick to respond, “I see him every day.”

Roy can’t seem to stop sighing, “That doesn’t make it okay, Wally.”

“I know,” his voice is sad, so sad.

Roy can’t stand to hear him like that.

He rolls his eyes at himself, reaches a hand down, pressing it over one of the hands at his waist. “Hey,” he nudges back.

“Mm.”

“You can let go. It’s okay.”

“You’re not gonna kill him,” a mumble against his back.

“I’ll _try_ not to.”

“Roy,” a whine.

“Okay, I won’t.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” another nudge.

And Wally lets go. Steps back, as Roy looks at him again, more calmly this time. They’re having a moment, exchanging looks-

When Dick’s irritated voice cuts in, “Okay, what is going on?”

Wally looks at him, “Huh?” Roy politely steps back, as Dick rushes forward, into their space.

“What do you know?” he looks sharply at Roy, and then at Wally, “Who is the guy?”

“Who, what,” but he knows what Dick’s trying to ask. He just doesn’t want to answer.

“The guy,” he whines at him, “The guy that kno- that did that.”

“No one important,” Wally shrugs, but his wandering eyes give him away.

“Wally,” he even points to Roy, who leans back cautiously, “Why does he know, and not me?”

“Come on,” Wally shrugs, “I was… gonna tell you?”

“Why didn’t you? And how can he just-” he looks at him again, his body almost rattling with anger, “How does he know about all this, and not me? Why is he okay with it?”

“I am _not_ okay,” Roy corrects him.

“Why does he accept this as a possibility?” Dick’s voice is getting higher in pitch. “Last thing I heard, you’re a _boy_ and now you’re... having a _baby_? How does that even make sense?”

“I told you,” Wally’s blushing before he can even get those words out. “I’m a boy, but… my body is-”

“Is what? Why don’t I know about this?” Dick’s exasperation is showing. “None of it makes sense.”

“Robin,” Dinah steps in, “Let him talk.”

Dick frowns, as he continues to stare up at Wally.

But Wally’s words aren’t what he wants to hear. Not what he expects. “I’m sorry.”

Dick makes a sound that’s almost like a growl, but from a tiny body that doesn’t have the necessary power for it.

But Roy’s had enough of his objections. He takes over. “He’s intersexed.”

“Huh?” Dick stares at him, wide-eyed.

“He’s a boy, with a _significant_ set of girl parts,” Roy responds quietly. “Unfortunately,” he grumbles, “That makes this possible.”

“I’m sorry,” another rushed apology from Wally.

“Shh,” Roy tells him. He turns his attention back to Dick, “He was born with some extra parts, and he doesn’t make a habit of telling everyone.”

“How did I not know this,” the hurt shows.

“Di-Robin,” Wally tries again, “I really didn’t mean to…”

“Why does he know?” Dick reiterates. “Why does he know, and not me?”

Silence. Wally’s thinking. Even Roy has to look away from them, because there’s what appears to be a blush materializing on his face.

Meanwhile, the other members of the team are scooting closer; they’re suspended in motion, eyes wide, breathing shallow as they wait for the scene to play itself out. Even Dinah has fallen suspiciously silent, unable to keep a slight grin off her face, in light of the blushes decorating the boys’ faces, and Dick’s continued look of irritation.

Finally, Wally says quietly, “He’s seen me naked.”

An audible gasp in the room; it’s impossible tell whose it was, except that Dick is protesting, “What?”

Roy gives a shrug, “Yeah. A few times.”

“S-shut up,” Wally stammers at him.

“Whoa,” a clear response from Artemis. She snickers in a low voice, “This is better than a movie.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Wally whines in general.

“Naked?” Dick is still stunned.

“Yeah, we were… um,” Wally sighs as he thinks on how to word it, “Kind of close.”

“Very,” Roy confirms.

“Close how?” Artemis can’t keep the smile off her face. This is too good. Even Megan is nervously shuffling beside her, as if she’s surprised and happy that she asked.

“Dating,” the word rolls off his tongue effortlessly, quickly, smoothly.

Dick’s jaw drops.

Wally tenses up.

Roy shrugs, “Just for a while. It’s not a big deal.”

“And now we’re just friends,” Wally chimes in, with a small smile. “Really good friends.”

“Mhm.”

“Whoa,” Artemis throws her hands up, “So you two… slept together?”

“Yeah,” Roy’s voice is flat and neutral as usual.

“That is _awesome_.”

Dick’s starting to sound like a broken record. “Why didn’t I know about this?”

“Dude,” Wally frowns at him, “You were twelve.”

“It happened _that_ long ago?”

“I wasn’t going to tell a twelve-year-old about my sex life!”

“Then why aren’t you telling me now?”

Wally falls silent. Sighs.

Roy tilts his head, “He has a good reason not to tell you.”

“Mm,” but Wally’s not entirely sure where he’s going with that.

“Or anyone,” Roy finishes his statement. “It’s bad. Inappropriate.”

Wally sighs.

“Inappropriate?” that catches Dinah’s attention.

“N-no,” Wally shrugs.

“Yes,” Roy nods.

“Okay, let’s back up,” Dinah holds up her hands again. “Wally.”

“Yes,” he takes a step closer to Roy, as if he’s tempted to hide behind him.

“You’re… pregnant,” she says the word carefully.

“Yes,” as he moves behind him; Roy takes a glance back, noticing.

“And The Flash knows about this?”

Roy rolls his eyes. Dinah raises an eyebrow at that.

“Yes,” Wally admits.

“And you have a... unique… anatomy. Which makes this possible. I’m assuming rare, but possible.”

“Yes,” he nods, his head moving behind Roy’s shoulder.

“Alright,” she nods, “That’s a lot to accept, but I think I’m getting there.”

Wally sighs, leaning his face against Roy’s back.

“So.” He hears her voice with a surprising clarity, “I’m allowing you to take a sick leave, from the team.”

“Mm,” a small sound.

“And I’m going to tell the League.”

“What,” Wally jerks his head up, and rushes over to her. “You can’t do that.”

“Why not?” her eyes widen. “Wally, they’re nothing to be afraid of. They’ll want to help you.”

“N-no, I-”

“Who knows, we may even have a way of reversing it.”

Wally’s face reacts; his eyes grow wide, and his jaw falls slack, as he starts to breathe slowly.

“Unless…” Dinah cautiously ventures, “You don’t… want that, do you?”

Wally regains some of his composure, and shakes his head.

“Okay,” she nods. “We’ll… help you through the… next few months, then,” with a gentle smile. “While we… try to understand. It’s… a lot, you know?”

“Mm,” he nods back.

“Okay,” she gives a sigh. “I guess that’s enough for now.” She stands still, and turns back towards the platform, “Shall we continue? Up next is Aqualad.”

Wally breathes a sigh of relief. He’s growing weak, as Roy reaches an arm around his shoulders. “Are you okay,” he gives a quiet murmur into his ear.

“Yeah,” Wally nods. “I will be.”

“And you’re sure you don’t want to get rid of it.”

“Roy,” his name slips out. He doesn’t know of anything better to say. He just needed to say something.

“Look, I get it,” he speaks faint and quiet, a subdued whisper, “You love him.”

Wally feels a startling sensation in his chest; a sudden pressure. “Yeah.”

“Then don’t regret it.”

“Roy,” but it’s softer, now. It’s less a reaction of shock and more of understanding.

Taking a quick glance at the rest of the team, making sure that no one’s looking—all eyes are on the floor, where Kaldur is dodging hits from Dinah—he pauses, and with a faint sigh, presses a gentle kiss to the side of Wally’s face.

Wally immediately stares at him, a blush certainly appearing on his face.

“If he doesn’t take care of you,” he idly chews on his lip, as if having to force the words out, “I will.”

“Roy…”

A whisper in his ear, “I love you.”

Roy.

“And you know _how_ I mean that.”

“Yeah,” a small smile. “I do.”

 _Hey, quit that_ ; that’s what he’d said, when he broke up with Wally. He gave him a tissue to dab his eyes with, and told him quietly, _You’re still my friend._

_You’ll always be my friend, Wally._

It’d taken a few months of awkward fooling around and unmatched levels of affection to prove that a relationship wasn’t working. They didn’t see eye to eye. Didn’t feel the same way about each other.

But even as Wally painfully let his feelings subside and fade on their own, he’d held that truth close to his heart like something precious. Even as he stumbled into an affair with Barry, an affair that became a relationship- While he was falling in love with the man and starting to understand what it felt like to love someone that madly loved you back with the same intensity and devotion-

He never lost sight of that reassuring truth, nor the statement that came after it.

_I will always be your friend._

-

“Wow,” Artemis is grinning, with a small laugh, as she lightly covers her mouth with a few fingers.

“What,” Wally is frowning at her, as he sinks back into the couch. Dressed again in civilian clothes, he slides hands into the front pockets of his hoodie, where they can conveniently rest against his stomach. He doesn’t know why, but that somehow makes him feel more at ease. He presses his fingers out as flat as he can, flat against it to calm himself just a little more.

“I just don’t… Wow,” she says. “I would have never seen that coming.”

“Well,” he remarks sharply, “Shit happens.”

She laughs. “I believe you. Wish you’d told us who your boy was, though.”

Wally shrugs. It’s a way to downplay his discomfort.

“Hey,” she sits up, and relocates to his side of the couch, kneeling beside him in a way that immediately makes him tense up. “Can I see it?”

“See what,” he asks with a wary look.

“I wanna see it,” she says, with a gesture towards his stomach.

He shrugs, “There’s not much to see yet…”

“Yet? That’s right, it’s gonna get bigger, huh?”

“What do you think,” he glares at her.

“I wanna see,” she fidgets. “I’m curious.”

“It’s the same as anyone else’s,” he whines.

“Come on,” she smirks. “Or I’ll start asking you about your _special_ relationship with Roy,” she sticks her tongue out.

He cringes, “Fine,” and, with a quick glance to make sure no one else is in the room, relocates his hands to the edge of his hoodie, peeling it back, folding it up across his chest. Her eyes are already widening at the sight of his stomach stretching the fabric of his shirt beneath, but he battles his discomfort for long enough to slip his fingers under the edge of it, sliding it up and shivering when the cold air hits his skin.

“Whoa,” but her voice is faint, even as Wally lifts the shirt back a little higher.

He flinches a little out of surprise when she reaches out and places a hand over it, touching cautiously, like she’s afraid of hurting him. She sends him a quick look, almost as if she’s trying to reassure him; she leans closer and takes a better look, her hand smoothing a circle across his belly like it’s special to her.

“That’s really neat,” she says softly.

“I don’t know,” he says quietly.

“No, it is,” she nods to herself. “I mean, it must be crazy. In a few months, this is gonna be… a baby. Well,” she grins a little, “More than it is now…”

He can’t help the smile that appears on his face, “Yeah.”

She pulls back her hand, as he breathes deeply in some kind of reflection, dwelling in that moment, and slides his shirt back down.

“I’m sorry for every time I made fun of you,” she says somberly, as he’s readjusting his hoodie, back to how it was.

He slides his hands back into his pockets, “Huh? Why.”

She shrugs, but more to herself than him, “You’re stronger than I thought you were. I don’t know how you were hiding that.”

He laughs a little, “It’s pretty easy, when you’re scared.”

“Is it that bad?” she settles in and gets comfortable beside him, “I mean. The League’s not really gonna judge you for it. They’re good people.”

“Mm,” he agrees, but with some hesitation. “But I’m not worried about me.”

“It’s about your guy,” she guesses.

“Yeah,” he grins a little, “It’s about my boy.”

“Is he bad?”

“No, he’s…” he shakes his head, “They’re gonna hate him. Not him, but… That _he_ did this.”

“Oh,” although she’s still trying to understand, “I get what you mean.”

“Yeah,” he laughs to quell his nerves.

Silence. Comfortable silence, now.

She reaches out a hand and ruffles his hair, as he makes a face at her.

“Good luck, Kid Mom,” she says, as she stands up.

He whines at that, “Why can’t I ever be Kid Flash…”

“Because you’re cute,” she laughs.

“Sure,” he rolls his eyes.

But there’s an inexplicable warmth, in a compliment from Artemis. It sends a pleasant buzz through him, like he’d just earned an approval he didn’t know he was fighting for. He earned the support of someone he didn’t realize he’d wanted on his side.

And between her kind words, and the hug Roy gave him before he left, he’s…

He’s feeling pretty okay.

He gets more comfortable, as he hears his friends chatting in the nearby kitchen, their voices rising with some excitement. He closes his eyes; doesn’t know what they’re talking about, doesn’t care.

Because for now, it feels like they’re on his side.

And that means more than anything.

-

For around a week, his home was like a ghost town. When his father is home, he doesn’t speak to him. He barely has any words. The one thing he asked was an, “Are you okay,” on a day when Wally was feeling particularly tired. Wally said a quick, “Yeah,” and the man continued on his way.

Wally knows he’s still furious at Barry. He knows he may never forgive him. He knows they may never be able to stand in the same room again, without one of them ending up in the hospital; and it wouldn’t be Barry that has to worry about that.

Wally doesn’t know what’s happening in the League right now. He’s too scared to ask Barry about what they said to him—because of course they went to him immediately, they must have—and he’s too scared to even ask his team for more of their thoughts. He’s walking on eggshells, knowing he’s being scrutinized, knowing that everyone sees him as an anomaly right now, a weirdness, an oddness, an Other they don’t fully understand.

He just wants acceptance. But that’s easier said than done.

School is no better.

Gym isn’t any easier. He’s still running around scared whenever a ball comes near him, and he can swear he was larger than he was just the week before—of course he is, that’s only inevitable—but he feels noticeably bigger every day. He’s sure half of it is his imagination, but half of it is also fact. The baby’s growing, whether he knows how to cope with that, or not.

Even in his regular classes, he finds he goes up to the chalkboard less often. He doesn’t want anyone looking at him; not too closely. He knows it’s not an odd thing for a boy to gain weight, but the rest of his body insists on staying lean. He almost wishes the weight would distribute itself evenly, so he’d look less like a pregnant woman and more like someone that just fell off their diet plan.

His exhaustion is catching up to him. Exhaustion, but at least the nausea is vanishing, slowly. He only throws up a few times a week, compared to the several before. His body doesn’t appear to hate him anymore. That can only be a good thing.

He slips in through the backdoor of Barry’s house, like he often does when he comes over. Slips in, and heads towards his bedroom. Steps inside.

Stops, when he looks up and sees Iris sitting on the bed. It’s rare that she’s there, and he isn’t. Very rare.

“Wally,” she says quietly, with a noticeable lack of surprise.

“Aunt Iris,” he doesn’t know what to think; he doesn’t know how to react.

“He was called out,” she says, “League business.”

Oh no. _Oh_ no. Any mention of the League is enough to fill him with dread. Because Barry has been so silent, so silent, and with him, silence is always a sign of bad news.

“Come here,” Iris smiles at him, “Have a seat,” as she pats her hand against the bed.

He drifts towards her hesitantly, half-afraid.

“Relax,” she says quietly, “I won’t hurt you.”

“I know,” he smiles sheepishly, still unable to make eye contact with her, as he sits beside her with a faint sigh.

“So,” she says forcefully, like she needs the extra effort to get the word out, “How have you been?”

“I’m okay,” he quickly comments.

“And the baby?” the way she asks, so straight-forward, so direct-

“Y-yes,” he tries to stay calm, “It’s fine.”

“No news is good news, right,” she smiles at him.

“Yeah,” he laughs quietly.

“This is… this is weird, isn’t it?”

He laughs. “Yeah.”

A warm hand on his arm, “I don’t mean for it to be. You’re still important to me, Wally.”

“I know,” he bows his head, “But maybe I shouldn’t be.”

She stares at him with some shock, “Why are you saying that?”

“Because,” he leans away from her, as she pulls her hand back, “I’m… I’m with… Barry’s your…”

“I know what he is, Wally.” She sighs, “But that doesn’t…” She stops, to refocus her words. “You’re still my nephew. You’ll always be my nephew.”

“Even if I’m with your husband,” his voice is low.

“Sometimes things happen in strange ways.”

“Aren’t you mad at me?”

She pauses. Idly looks toward the window, as she thinks out loud, “I’m disappointed.”

“I’m sorry-”

“I was very surprised. I still am,” she affirms. “I was shocked, and… upset. But the only person I’m mad at, _really_ mad at, is Barry.”

“But I’m just as responsible-”

“You’re not the one who married me, Wally,” she turns to look at him, with a tired, but kind smile, “And you’re not the responsible adult here.”

“I knew what I was doing…”

She remains silent; she’s listening.

“I knew the risk of what we were…”

“But you’re still just a child. No matter how mature you feel. You’re allowed to make a few mistakes.”

“I-I guess-”

“And he’s old enough to know better.” She frowns, “He _did_ know better. Now I… I’m not sure, anymore.”

“He’s a good man,” Wally suggests.

Iris shrugs, her eyes far away, “I hope he is, to you.”

That leaves Wally speechless. She’s completely right. To Iris, he’d been…

He’s been…

“That’s the way it should be, right now,” she muses quietly.

“Aunt Iris-”

“You need his support, Wally. So keep it.”

He stares at her, with a strange sadness burying itself in his chest.

She looks at him, a gentle smile at the edge of her lips, “You need it more than I do.”

She’s probably right. But…

That doesn’t ease the pain Wally’s feeling. It doesn’t ease the guilt. The tension in his heart.

It doesn’t ease anything.

-

Later that night, he receives a call from Barry. His voice is low and direct on the other end of the line, like exhaustion had robbed him of the ability to be more at ease. “Hey baby.”

“Hey,” Wally knows something’s wrong, so he doesn’t want to delay it. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” he even laughs a little, like he’s surprised. But he sounds tense, so tense. “I’ll be fine.”

 _I’ll be._ Future tense.

“What happened,” Wally’s thinking of the League, he’s thinking of the League, and their urgency to see Barry, and-

“I had to tell them, Wally.”

He wants to react, but can’t. Wants to say something, but can’t. His only response is a stifled sound that’s somewhere between a sob and a whisper, choked and held back.

“Don’t worry,” Barry sighs on the line. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll be fine.”

“Barry…” he finally manages.

“I’ll be fine. I’ll see you later, alright?”

“Okay,” but that’s a small comfort.

“I love you.”

Wally wants to cry.

“I love you too.”

-

At the mountain, the next afternoon. A mission brief. His team gathers around Dinah, as they wait for the rest of the League to arrive. Big news is on the horizon.

Wally is distressed, because he’s sure it’s about him.

One by one, the mentors appear. One by one, acknowledging their protégés with faint smiles and half-waves. Politely kind gestures. Or even a knowing look, like when Bruce arrived into the crowd, and nodded to Dick as an obligatory greeting.

One by one, they all arrive.

Except one.

His teammates don’t notice the absence; no one notices the absence, until Bruce begins to speak, initiating the meeting. And it’s Kaldur, polite, well-intentioned Kaldur, who dares to ask. “I beg your pardon,” even as he watches Bruce cautiously, to make sure he's allowed to speak, “Should we wait for Flash to arrive?”

And the man’s response is direct and short, “He’s not coming.”

_God._

Wally knows why. He knows exactly why, but he’s fearing the worst. And he notices the somber, knowing looks on the mentors’ faces. He sees them, the way Dinah frowns to herself, the way Clark shifts nervously, the way Ollie gives a nervous shrug, like he knows more than he’d ever want to say.

But Bruce moves forward. He moves steadily forward.

Contrary to what Wally expects… no one mentions Barry, after that. Not a single word. Bruce is briefing them on a mission that involves all of them, in different teams. All of them, except for him. He has to sit this one out. Of course. He doesn’t like it, but he understands.

But he finds little point in hanging around. Not right now.

So he does the next best thing. As soon as Bruce is finished speaking, Wally grins a little, tells his friends he’ll see them later, and leaves.

He goes to see Barry. Because he can’t stand that he’s alone. Can’t stand what the League just did to him. Can’t stand how effortless it was for them to push him aside.

Barry deserves better than that. Wally knows that. Even if he’s the only person that believes it.

-

“Stress isn’t good for the baby,” Barry’s cautioning him, as he smoothes his hands over his stomach.

“I know.”

“I mean it,” Barry kisses the back of his neck, before Wally turns around to face him directly. Barry speaks to him gently, “I told you, I can handle it. Don’t worry about me.”

Wally frowns, with a somber grin, “You know I can’t help it.”

“I know,” Barry smiles back at him, but his eyes are heavy, “But I don’t want… this to bother you. It shouldn’t.”

“Bar-”

“It can’t, Wally.”

_Because that’ll hurt the baby._

Wally knows that. He knows that, but…

“Don’t worry about me. I’ve survived worse.”

“Worse than everyone hating you,” his voice is small and faint.

Barry sighs. For a moment his eyes fall away, like he’s unsure of how to respond. Because the truth hurts, and both he and Wally know it. The truth is unkind and unforgiving.

Barry has survived death. He’s fought enemies that threatened to—and nearly did—tear him limb from limb. He can handle many things. Many terrifying, fearsome things. But to lose the trust of his peers, the trust of the League…

“I’ll be fine,” he says. A gentle kiss to the side of his face, “I promise.”

-

“So,” the boy is crawling to sit beside him, an elegant tangle of legs and arms as he crouches down onto the couch. He’s glancing at him with some haste, as he balances himself on his feet.

“Huh?” his urgency catches him off-guard. He’d been dozing off to sleep, lulled out of consciousness by the low murmur of the television.

“We need to talk.”

Wally sighs, with a knowing smirk, “You don’t waste much time, do you?”

“When my best friend is preggers, out of nowhere,” he tilts his head, “Yeah, I don’t.”

Wally pouts to himself, “It’s not out of nowhere…”

“How long have you been seeing him,” he finally decides to sit like a normal person, unfolding his legs and planting himself down firmly with a slight sound of annoyance.

Wally shrugs, “A while.”

“A while,” he can hear the sarcasm in his voice.

“Look, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you-”

“You should be,” he whines.

“-but considering who your dad is-”

“He’s not my dad,” a hurried correction.

“-I didn’t want him to find out, and,” he sighs, “Kill him.”

“Why would he kill him?”

Wally rolls his eyes, as he reaches into his jacket pocket, for a granola bar he’d brought along. He’s peeling the wrapper open, as he clarifies, “You know he’s not the most… tolerant person.”

“Tolerant,” Dick’s eyes grow wide for a moment, but it’s from confusion and little else. “Why would he need to be tolerant.”

Wally shrugs, as he takes a bite and chews in silence.

“Wally-”

“Because,” he pauses to chew a few times, and swallows, “He’d be offended. You know how conservative he is.” He sighs. “He probably _is_ offended…”

“So he knows,” in a pitch that’s almost a squeak.

“Yeah,” as he resumes eating.

“Dude.”

“Mm,” as he chews.

“You’re telling me I need to ask _Batman_ for the juicy details?”

Wally groans, “No. Look, I’ll…” He’s realizing there’s no point in being secretive anymore. “I’ll tell you. Okay?”

“When-”

“Right now.” He pauses, as he crumples up the empty wrapper, and tosses it towards the trash can some feet away. Frowns to himself when it misses.

Silence. Dick’s waiting on him. But it’s not about whether or not he wants to tell him. It’s suddenly about whether he can. Whether he can physically force the words out.

He’s not ashamed of his love for Barry. He’s not ashamed of what’s happened between them. But that’s not the same as being confident enough to say it openly-

“Okay, um.” He has to start somewhere. “Did you notice…”

“Notice what.”

“Hold on,” Wally groans at him. And _slow down_ , but that’d be too odd of him to say. He’s the speedster, after all. “Didn’t you notice… someone missing yesterday?”

“Yeah,” Dick responds quickly; too quickly. Wally should have expected this. He knows how perceptive Dick is. He knows how easily he picks up on unusual details- “They kicked Flash out of the League.”

Wally stops. Stares.

Dick’s face was calm, but now he’s looking… startled. He frowns back at Wally, a rattled shake moving through his body. “That’s… that’s why…”

Wally bites his lip. Because he didn’t know that before. Barry hadn’t told him that part, and now, with the way Dick is looking at him…

“That’s _sick_.”

In moments like these, Wally wants to die.

“That’s sick, Wally. He’s your…”

Wally’s not looking at him anymore, when he feels the couch move, slightly, just slightly. The lightweight beside him leaves, a silent dash away, the light steps of rapid footsteps dancing over the floor.

Wally’s stifling what feels like a sob, but escapes as more of a whimper.

When Artemis and Megan casually stroll into the room, he’s shaking in silence. He bows his head, hoping they won’t see his face. His bottom lip is going numb, but he can’t stop biting down. He can’t ease up on the pressure. Because he still feels the stress. Still feels the tension, the guilt, the-

The judgment, the judgment from his best friend.

“Are you okay,” Artemis’ voice disrupts the silence inside his head.

He doesn’t look up at her; can’t look up at her. He just shakes his head. A hand on his shoulder, but it’s not hers. It’s too gentle. Too kind.

Megan’s voice is considerably softer, “Do you need to talk?”

“It doesn’t matter,” he mumbles. He’s rising to his feet, as he feels them stepping back. He’s moving forward, even if he doesn’t know where he wants to go. Anywhere. Anywhere away from here.

“Wally,” Megan’s attempting again-

 _He’ll come around_ , a familiar voice inside his head.

 _No, he- Wait, were you listening_ , he finds himself staring at the floor, the shine of their shoes.

 _I’m sorry,_ her hand returns to his shoulder, squeezing gently. _I overheard. I didn’t mean to._

 _It’s okay._ He steps forward again, moving past her, as her hand is left behind, grasping air. _You’re allowed to think I’m sick, too._

 _I would never think that,_ she looks back at him as he moves on, watching him drift away in silence.

He stops moving. At this point, even Artemis is sending him a look of sympathy. She may not be privy to their conversation, but she’s reacting to Wally’s tension. His stress. His sadness.

 _Robin seems to think so._ He sighs. _Batman thinks so. The entire League thinks so._

_Not the entire League._

When he looks at her directly, Megan is sending him a small smile.

_Give them time, Wally. It’s very surprising to them. They need time to accept it._

Wally frowns to himself, and turns away. He says out loud, “I’m leaving. I’ll see you guys later.”

 _Thanks_ , he tells her.

 _I’m always here for you_ , her kind voice, as he steps out of the room.

-

His house is quiet.

He should visit Barry; needs to visit Barry. But he doesn’t know what to say. Doesn’t want to cry. Doesn’t want to wallow in his pity; and if he does, he doesn’t want Barry to see it. Barry will be concerned. He knows that. He doesn’t want to worry him anymore.

A hand on his stomach, he presses it there to reassure himself, since the idle motion normally does. But now it hurts instead, aches because he’s feeling the life inside there is unwanted. Unappreciated. Destined to be unloved.

Well. At least…

“We’ll love you,” he says it quietly, mainly as a reminder to himself. “Even if no one else does.”

_Barry and me, we’ll-_

He’s crying softly.

“Congratulations,” he says it bitterly.

And it only makes him cry harder.

-

Barry’s hand is reassuring, a firm grip on his shoulder. He’s shaking; it’s too subtle and faint for anyone else to notice, but Wally feels it. He feels the energy trembling through him, feels the strong emotion he’s doing his best to suppress.

“You must be very proud of Wally, Mr. West,” the doctor’s voice is courteous and kind, and it almost makes him feel guilt for lying so boldly to her face. Almost. But not enough.

Because Barry is…

Barry is…

He gives a faint laugh, “I can’t believe it,” and Wally can hear the joy. Because he knows him so well, because he knows what that tone means, because he can still feel him trembling and shaking through the touch on his shoulder. Wally knows the smile on his face, and the genuine light in his eyes.

The doctor sends a smile in their direction, having little idea of their deception. She doesn’t know their lie, but it’s better that way. It’s not like his actual father wants anything to do with this, anyway.

Thank God for that. Because this moment was meant for them.

And for the moment, Wally is effectively speechless. But it’s the good kind. The kind of awe that almost brings tears to his eyes. Because there is so much joy, and love in this room.

If it took a lie to make this happen, it was worth it.

Wally turns his eyes away from Barry, and back to the screen. Watches the static image move and fluctuate, and feels his heart jump in his chest as his child—no, he knows better now, his _children_ —are moving. Moving and alive, and he’s admiring the small hands and feet and legs and suggestions of faces and features-

Barry’s hand at his shoulder, massaging in a small circle before he lets go. His voice is quiet and faint, and Wally knows how amazing it must be, how rare it is for him to lose control of his voice like that.

“Isn’t that beautiful.”

-

When they return to the car, Wally can’t kiss him enough. It feels indecent, because to the hospital they’re masquerading as father and son, but he quickly reasons to himself that no one’s spying on them, and no one cares, and if they do, it’s none of his business-

It’s all such a low priority right now.

Because Barry’s so happy and he’s so proud and-

Wally feels so much love, from every moment he looks at him, from every touch from him, even the initially hesitant, but firm embrace as the man winds his arms around his body and kisses him back. Barry is so proud, and in love with him, and Wally is so madly in love and-

Barry got to see his baby for the first time; no, his-

Barry got to see his children, both of them for the first time, and he has yet to stop smiling.

Wally can’t kiss him enough.

-

Mount Justice. Wally arrives later that afternoon, just in time to catch everyone on their way back from a brief security escort mission. He’d hoped to have some time to himself, but it’s alright. He did come here to see his friends, after all.

He just would’ve liked some time alone first. Because he still feels warm, and his heart is still racing. He has yet to calm down. Doesn’t know if he can. Not yet.

He sits down on the couch, as the others gather in the room around him, with friendly greetings. Except for Conner—who’s always quiet like that—and Dick, who leaves the room. But that’s to be expected. It hurts, but it’s unsurprising. Any other day, it would have offended him. Not today.

Today is too amazing.

Megan sits down beside him on the couch, smiling as they meet eyes in a kind of knowing gesture. Wally’s not sure what she’s noticing, but it’s clearly something good from the way she’s acting, her eyes sparkling as she watches him closely.

She’s not silent for very long. She barely involves herself in the conversation between Artemis and Kaldur, and instead leans towards Wally and says, “You’re feeling happy today, aren’t you?”

“Me?” he shrugs nervously, trying to downplay it, even as he feels a familiar burning sensation across his cheeks.

Megan’s smiling at him still, “You’re really happy, Wally.”

He’s noticing eyes on them—on _him_ specifically—but for once he’s completely okay with it. He nods, “Y-yeah, I am.”

“Did something happen?” she looks at him eagerly.

For a moment, he can’t speak. Because it’s too surreal. It’s still too amazing. So he starts slowly, “I… had an ultrasound today.”

“What’s that,” she tilts her head.

Behind her, Artemis quips, “It’s where they take a look at the baby.”

Megan glances back at her.

She shrugs, “You know, with the… machine and stuff. They take a look in there,” she motions towards his stomach with a hand, drawing a circle around it in the air, “to see how everything is.”

“ _Oh_ , I know what that is,” Megan turns back to Wally, with a slight bounce in her movement, her excitement showing, “Everything looks good, then? Normal?”

“Yeah,” he nods; _God_ the blush on his face must be awful right now, “Everything’s good.”

He wants to tell her more. Wants to tell her so much more than that. Wants to tell her the rest, but the words are getting tied up in his throat and he’s not able to force them out.

“Wally, if… you don’t mind,” she looks at his stomach cautiously, as if studying something, “Can I do a reading for you?”

“A what,” he laughs a little.

“To make sure everything is okay,” she nods, “For my… own reassurance.” She’s almost embarrassed, and it’s so adorable that Wally can’t refuse her. Even if he has no idea what she’s about to do to him.

“Sure.”

“I guess you could say,” she’s finding the edge of his shirt, and he shivers from the sudden brush of her hands against his stomach as she slides them beneath the fabric, “This is how _my_ people take a look at things, back home.” She’s smiling gently, a gentle contact smoothing against him as he watches her intently, noticing how her face changes, from a subtle happiness to an overwhelming joy that even makes him smile back.

The room has fallen entirely silent. All eyes on him and her; no one dares to speak. This moment is something magical. Something profound.

When she speaks she’s almost giddy, with an almost melodic sigh, “I can feel her, Wally.”

“I… it’s a girl,” he asks her, to make sure.

“Yes,” she nods, “Definitely.”

Barry gets to have the daughter he wanted… but what about-

“Wally,” Megan coos at him, a blush appearing on her own face as she looks up at him, with some definite embarrassment now.

“Y-yeah,” he asks nervously.

_Tell me you found the other one. There is another one, right-_

She whispers, “You love her so much.”

It’s overwhelming, hearing something like that. It’s not what he wanted, not exactly, but it’s-

She’s nodding, “Don’t ever stop doing that, Wally.” Smoothing her hands around again, in a circle over his stomach, her touch gentle and warm, “It’ll keep her healthy.” One more nod, “And very happy.”

“So there’s no problems,” he asks quietly.

“None,” she shakes her head, a smile lingering at the corners of her lips as her hands pause in movement. She falls still, a slow frown materializing on her face.

_Tell me you found the other one._

“Megan,” he asks hesitantly. Her silence is concerning, but he’s hoping that-

“Wally,” she looks at him curiously, almost uncertain; her hands start to move again, “There’s… something else.”

There it goes again. His heart rate jumping up.

“It’s…” she trails off; her hands moving, moving, in circles before they stop suddenly. “Wally,” with a bold smile out of nowhere, a smile that distorts her entire face, her eyes lighting up as she trembles a little. “Do you know…”

_Tell me you found the other one-_

She shrugs to herself, but it’s more to express her energy somehow, as she tells him, her voice dancing, “There’s another baby.”

It’s not the first time he’s heard it. Not today.

But the way she says it, is...

“It’s a boy,” and she excitedly lifts his shirt up and leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to his stomach before leaning away with a smile. “She has a brother,” and she’s still trembling, her hands shaking as she pulls his shirt back down.

The way she says it is nothing short of amazing.

Her joy is infectious; somehow, he didn’t really feel it before. Not the way he does now.

When she embraces him warmly, she says in his ear, “Now you can love him too, Wally.” Her arms tight around his shoulders, and she feels like sunshine and smells like flowers, her body warm and her voice soft, “And both of them will be perfectly healthy.”

He doesn’t realize he’s shaking, until she pulls away, and looks at him with some concern. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” he nods; he’s starting to feel the tears in his eyes, “I’m fine.”

“Hey,” but this time it’s Artemis, stepping forward cautiously.

“I’m totally fine,” and he thinks his smile gives him away, because when he looks at her, she smiles back and nods.

Megan is still beaming at him, even as she settles back onto the couch. She takes his hand and holds it.

When she murmurs a quiet, “Congratulations,” he starts to cry so loudly he sobs.

Megan’s arms are around him again, and it doesn’t take Artemis long to step forward and sit beside him, a warm hand on his shoulder as he covers his face with his hands.

Artemis is asking, with some stress, “Are you sure you’re alright?”

Megan tells her reassuringly, “It’s a very emotional process.”

Even from behind his hands, Wally nods.

“My friend,” a new voice. Low, but endlessly polite and calm. Soothing and low, “If I may.”

Wally wipes at his eyes, and looks up. Still feels the shake in his chest, and he’s almost humbled because he knows his face looks flushed and pathetic, and the man standing before him is so… Reserved and calm, as always.

Kaldur’s smile is gentle and kind, effortlessly kind as he reaches out, his hand clenched into a fist as he holds it in the air. Wally’s momentarily confused, until Kaldur asks, “Your hand, if you do not mind.”

Wally extends a hand forward, palm open as Kaldur unwinds his fingers and drops something into it. Something small and cold, cold and smooth like the ocean.

Wally’s bringing his hand back, looking at it carefully as Kaldur explains the offering.

“This is a healing crystal, from my city,” he nods. “If you keep it in your possession, it will bring you good health. If you feel ill,” he pauses, “Or if you ever fear for your children,” with another nod, and a knowing smile, “Terra will protect you.”

“Terra,” he’s asking, as he examines the crystal carefully, noticing that it seems to shimmer with a light of its own-

“Terra is a goddess of fertility,” he nods, “During your pregnancy, she will watch over you.”

The crystal shimmers with a light that’s unnatural, as if possessed by a greater force. And it doesn’t take Wally long to understand how profound of a gift he’s just received. “Kal, you don’t have to-”

“I do,” his eyes widen with some surprise. “It is a small gift, for my friend.”

The more Wally looks at him, the less he knows of how to respond. There aren’t enough words. There are not enough adequate ways to express gratitude, for something like this. But he’s rising to his feet, throwing his arms around a very surprised Kaldur, who laughs as he hesitantly returns the embrace. “You are very welcome.”

Wally still can’t find words, but it appears he doesn’t need them.

The moment he steps back, Kaldur tells him, “I, too, offer my congratulations.”

“Thank you,” Wally finally manages.

“A child is…” his kind smile returns, “A true gift from the Gods. To be given two, is a true blessing.”

Wally sighs, despite himself, “It doesn’t always feel that way.”

But Kaldur’s sudden hand on his shoulder is firm and comforting, “I know times are difficult, friend. For the League, this is a difficult situation to accept.”

“I know-”

“But they’ll come around,” Megan chimes in.

“They will,” Kaldur nods. “They will come to understand the love you have for this,” he pauses, correcting himself, “these children.”

Wally nods, even if he is hesitant. Because Kaldur says that so effortlessly, with the ease at which he accepts and says everything. And Wally doesn’t know if he can ever see things that way. Not with so little of a struggle.

Kaldur’s hand gives a gentle squeeze, “They will understand the love you both have, and share.”

Wally’s nodding again, but that makes him fall still.

“My king and I,” Kaldur affirms, “We understand this, friend. Your situation may be unusual, but you have our support.”

“Why,” Wally wants to believe him, but it’s so difficult. It’s extremely difficult.

Kaldur almost looks surprised that he had to ask. But despite the widening of his eyes, his voice remains stable and patient. And as he speaks, his face relaxes, “Even to the most skeptical member of the League,” he pauses, choosing his words carefully, “His love for you is undeniable.”

“Barry,” Wally’s wagering a cautious guess.

“Yes,” Kaldur nods, “A bond as profound as yours is…” he closes his eyes for a moment, as if reminiscing, “The work of the Gods. We are not so arrogant, as to question their will.”

“I see,” it’s sinking in.

“My friend,” he pulls back his hand, but he still feels close and personal, from his gentle tone of voice, “Do not be troubled by the League.”

“Because you have our support,” Megan’s chiming in again, beaming up at him.

“Barry Allen is a good man,” Kaldur elaborates, “and the Fates have brought you together. This has certainly happened for a reason.”

Megan doesn’t contribute to his statement, but she’s nodding emphatically as he continues.

“You have been blessed. This is a time for great joy.”

-

It’s the most curious sensation.

Wally’s sitting in class, trying not to laugh while a serious movie, a documentary plays on a television up front. They’re supposed to be taking notes of some kind. But Wally’s already watched it—fast-forwarded, with subtitles—a couple of weeks ago when he saw the title on the lesson plan, so he’s barely able to pay attention. It wasn’t a good enough film to watch closely again, even if he appreciates the subject matter.

Mysteries of the universe. It’s oddly profound, in light of what he’s feeling right now.

He takes advantage of the dark room, and traces his hand over his stomach, trying to soothe it. Trying to calm things down, but he doesn’t have any clue of what he’s doing or how to accomplish it. He just knows that he’s feeling something _moving_ and it’s both awkward and hilarious and mystifying.

The doctor had warned him about this. She just hadn’t said it’d be so difficult to not lose yourself in the moment. To not be so distracted by the tiny fluttering and shifting of a very alive being inside you. Or two.

Two. It’s still sinking in.

God, how do you even care for two children… He was terrified enough about one…

But he’s excited too. Every single day, he’s more excited than he’s ever been.

And as uncomfortable as this _fluttering_ —no, it’s more like a rumbling, very faint—is, it’s a sign that the lives inside him are indeed alive, and responding to something. Communicating something.

It’s tremendously exciting.

And he has to try hard not to laugh, and to resist the urge to murmur a, “Shh,” like he would, if he was alone. Like he knows Barry would.

The voice on the television, “As we explore the infinite complexities surrounding the origin of life.”

You can say that again.

-

After the tedium of school ends, it’s back to Barry’s place as usual.

Walking feels so strange. He can’t run like he used to; not nearly as often, and especially not today. His astronomy teacher doesn’t like it when he eats during class, so he’s been spending the walk over there trying to eat as much as possible. He needs to restore his energy, because he knows how much Barry worries. He can’t afford to faint; never again. Barry wouldn’t let him live it down at all.

A trip through the sandwich shop. Finish that. A stop for a small treat, from the ice cream stand. Finish that. A short detour to the local convenience store, where he leaves with a bag of organic chips that should do the trick. That’s not the image of perfect health, but they’re all-natural, baked and plain. That’s close enough.

He finally arrives at Barry’s house half an hour after he left school, and he groans to himself because he can’t believe it took that long. Walking is so tedious. If he hadn’t been distracting himself with food, he’s certain it would’ve been an awful experience.

He lets himself in the front door; it’s unlocked as usual. Sets his backpack down on the couch.

Immediately notices how… empty the room feels.

He looks around perplexed, trying to spot the differences. A few items missing. The furniture’s slightly moved. There was some… remodeling? He knows that’s not entirely right, but it’s as close a guess as he can wager.

He hears Barry’s voice before he sees him, “Hey,” as he steps out from the hallway.

“Hi,” Wally gives a half-wave, looking at him in some awe, before laughing at a spot of blue paint on his pants.

“Don’t laugh,” Barry smirks at him. He opens his arms, and Wally rushes into them. But they collide gently, and Barry pulls him into a loose embrace as he asks, “Everything go okay today?”

“Yeah,” Wally sighs pleasantly.

Barry notices. His interest is piqued, as he releases him from the hug, and politely steps back. He’s waiting for the details.

Wally’s almost blushing, “I felt… movement today.”

“Movement,” Barry raises an eyebrow at him.

Wally’s grinning now, as he lightly hits him in the chest, as if he’s a fool for not understanding, “Movement. Like what the doctor said.”

“They’re moving,” he responds with some awe. And a sudden smile, “That’s great,” and a half-laugh, as he takes Wally’s hands in his own.

“It’s… interesting,” he shifts a little, noticing how tightly Barry’s holding onto his fingers.

Something’s wrong. With this. This house.

“Barry,” he asks in a quiet voice. But he doesn’t wait for a response first. “What’s going on?”

The man tries to feign confusion, but it doesn’t take him long to pick up on Wally’s look of scrutiny, as his eyes are wandering again. Wandering around the room, noticing more odds and ends that seem out of place.

“Iris left.”

“Barry,” his name spoken like a sigh, startled and uncertain as Wally moves closer to him. Just enough to communicate his sympathy.

“It’s okay,” Barry smiles gently. “She’s just staying at a friend’s place for a while, until we… sort things out.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Wally,” Barry sighs, “Don’t be. It’s not your fault.”

He has to bite his lip, to silence further protest. Because no matter what he says—no matter what anyone says—he still believes it is.

He knows he tempted Barry into this. He knows he initiated a kiss first. Even if Barry was the first one to make the actual contact, he was the one that teased him for months, that flirted with him, that would sneak inappropriate touches and-

He’s the one that agreed to let Barry do this. He’s the one that let Barry have sex with him without protection. He gave him permission. And nothing Barry, or anyone, ever says will make him forget that.

“Didn’t you love her, Barry.”

Barry’s staring at him, with a shocked expression as Wally takes a step back.

“If you loved her so much,” his eyes fall to the floor, “How could you do this?”

“What-”

“Why did you do any of this with _me_.”

“Wally.”

And he reveals an ugly truth. An ugly belief. Just a precious fragment of his deep guilt. “I’m not worth this.”

Silence.

“She’s your wife, _Barry_ , she’s your soulmate-”

“Wally.”

“And I’m just-” he’s almost shaking too much to continue. “I’m just some dumb kid-”

Firm hands on his shoulders. And when he looks up, cloudy as his vision is, Barry’s expression is unmistakable. He’s not offended. He’s not angry. He’s… sad. There’s sadness in his eyes, and when he talks his voice is low and wounded. “Wally, listen to me.”

Wally nods.

“Don’t you _ever_ say that again.”

Wally nods, but he’s trembling.

Barry repeats it, “Don’t ever say that,” and one of his hands travels, pressing along the side of his face. Wally’s leaning into his touch without thinking. He always does.

“Wally.”

“Hm,” he glances up, but his eyes quickly fall away again.

“Look at me.”

When he establishes eye contact, he notices something new in Barry’s expression. Something he can’t easily define. Something dark. Something heavier than guilt.

“I love you.”

Wally smiles a little, “I know.”

“I _love_ you,” he says it again. “And I don’t know a thing about soulmates, or anything like that-”

Wally’s biting his lip again. Because he may not know a lot either, but he knows what Barry had with Iris, and he knows that kind of thing doesn’t come around more than once in a lifetime, and-

“But right now,” he sighs, “What I do know is that I love you.”

Wally nods.

“You’re the closest thing to a soulmate that I might ever get.”

That hurts a bit more than Barry probably thinks. Because _it shouldn’t be me_. That’s what Wally thinks.

“And I am completely okay with that.”

Wally nods.

“You’re my partner, Wally. You’re my best friend. And there’s no one I would rather be doing this with.” He pauses, “Do you understand?”

Wally shrugs.

“Do I need to repeat myself?”

Wally shakes his head.

Barry stares at him. Calmly. Patiently.

Wally’s looking at the floor again.

Barry’s kissing him on the side of the face, “Right now,” as he pulls back, “I love you… a lot more than I ever loved Iris.”

Wally looks up. “Because I’m the one that got pregnant.”

That was the wrong thing to say. Wally knows, the moment it leaves his mouth. He knows, from the way Barry’s eyes widen, and the way his mouth is tensing into a straight line. But he can’t take it back now. He’s not even sure he’d want to.

Barry frowns to himself, as he breaks contact with him for the first time. Takes a step back. Leans against the couch. Crosses his arms across his chest. Stares at Wally for a few long seconds, before he even attempts to speak.

“I don’t know…” he trails off uncharacteristically, as he has to pause to recollect his thoughts. “Wally, I… don’t know what I ever did, to make you think that.”

“You love me more now, because I’m,” the words have a way of tumbling out before he can consider them, and he can’t stop himself once he opens his mouth. “You like me better now, because you always wanted someone that would get knocked up-”

“ _Knocked up_ ,” he asks harshly, the words forced out with an unnatural bitterness. “Where did you even get that from? Did someone say that to you?”

He can’t incriminate Roy. Not like this. And definitely not right now, when his genuinely kind intentions would be completely misunderstood. So he shakes his head. He hates to tell a lie. Even a small one. But this is necessary.

“Wally, I would never…” he sighs, but it’s to himself. “I would never, ever think of you that way.”

“But you wanted to have children with me,” his voice is tiny and small.

“Yes, of course I did,” he says it quickly. Almost too impulsively. So he’s quick to calm himself, lowering his voice as he speaks slower. “I wanted to. I absolutely wanted to.”

Silence. Contemplative.

“Because I think you’re…” he takes a deep breath. “I couldn’t help myself. I got carried away.”

Silence. Curious, now. Something poignant, beneath it all.

“I became obsessed with the idea.” He pauses. “I became obsessed with _you_.” He looks at him, directly now, “I still am. …Wally,” he emphasizes his name like a prayer, “I’m a…” He even gives a small laugh. “I’m a kinky son of a bitch, but I’m not a monster. There was more to it, than just.. desire.”

“I know,” Wally says quietly. He knows Barry loves him. He’s known that. He just-

“I…” Barry’s trailing off again, “I wanted it to be you. Because it was _you_ , Wally. I wouldn’t have done this with anyone else.”

“But Iris-”

“Not even with Iris.”

Wally stops.

“We’ve been married for a few years.” He presses his hands together, fingers shaking as he relieves some tension in his joints, “Not once did I ever feel certain.”

Silence. Possibly for the last time, because they’re calming down. They’re calming down, now.

“But with you, it was… instant. It happened so fast.” He’s grinning his way through the next few words, “I knew I wanted you, and I wanted you to have my children.” He shakes his head. “I just didn’t ever think it’d be this soon.”

“I’m sorry-”

“Don’t apologize. Don’t ever apologize for that.”

A hand to the side of his face again, and Barry’s leaning in to look at him directly. So close he can hear him breathing, so close he can’t possibly look away.

“Don’t ever apologize for _this_ ,” with a light and affectionate touch to his stomach. Wally places a hand over Barry’s, returning the smile to the best of his ability, hesitant but genuine. Barry gives him a firm kiss on the mouth, and he murmurs, “Because it’s a goddamn miracle.”

Wally laughs; Barry smiles wider now, with some relief.

“Relax, baby,” he kisses him just below his eyes, and Wally’s sure he’s blushing again. “I’m happier now than I’ve ever been.”

Before Wally can even think of how to respond to a statement like that, something so beautiful and powerful, Barry is moving back, taking his hand and saying, “Now come ‘ere. I have something for you.”

-

This room was… what was this room, before? But it doesn’t matter now.

Because now it’s filled with sunlight. Light and warmth and soft blue walls painted with fluffy clouds. A white cabinet beside the window, a bookshelf against the wall and a charming and beautiful white crib in the center of the room. A thin and soft blanket draped over the edge, and two teddy bears tossed in, sitting side by side.

“Barry,” Wally’s jaw practically drops, the more he looks around. He’s frowning, “You did this… today?”

The man shrugs, almost amused, “Yeah, it took a few minutes.”

“It’s a little early,” but he’s smiling through each word.

“I couldn’t help myself,” winding an arm around Wally’s shoulders. “As soon as I heard the news, I…”

“You had to,” Wally smiles up at him.

“Yeah,” Barry’s grinning back.

“So I’m gonna… live with you,” he says hesitantly.

“Mm,” Barry nods quietly. “I’m… working that out with your mother.”

“Oh,” because that’s frightening territory. That’s a give and take situation. She’d let him have a few victories—escorting him to the hospital for the surprisingly important ultrasound being one of them—but there was no telling how much more she’d sacrifice-

Wally knew that she didn’t forgive him. She probably never would.

“Don’t worry,” Barry pulls him closer, “Worst case scenario, you can stay with me during the weekends.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he nods, “She’s agreed to that much. And our negotiations have just started, so…”

He pauses, because Wally’s holding onto him so tightly, it’s difficult to speak.

“Wally,” he laughs. But he’s returning the embrace, arms around his back as he leans in and breathes calm and quiet, increasingly soothing as Wally relaxes in his arms.

It’s difficult to speak like this, but he does his best. “So what’s with the clouds,” his voice a quiet murmur against Barry’s chest.

He feels the laugh rumble through him, as Barry responds, “I didn’t know what we were having. So I think I can… toss some unicorns, or some sports balls up there later.”

“Or maybe both,” as Wally shrugs a little.

Barry laughs quietly, “Yeah. That’d be perfect.” Wally can practically hear the smile in his voice.

“We’re having both,” he says quietly. “Megan told me.”

Barry pauses. Stiffens up, but it’s not from stress. “Your friend?”

“Yeah,” Wally tries to nod, but the effort is futile. So instead he smiles, hoping the point gets across. “She said I’m having a girl and a boy.”

He’s startled when Barry suddenly leans back away from him. Wally looks up, meeting his eyes to see a look of surprise, that gradually turns into wonder as the smile appears on his face, “Really.” Wally’s nodding, as Barry continues on, “That’s wonderful. That’s perfect,” before pulling him close again, a gentle hand against his back as he holds him.

Wally loves the way Barry hugs him. There’s always something so… loving about it. Something honest.

Silence between them, and Wally can feel Barry’s heart beating through his chest. He listens to his breathing. Feels the warmth of his hands, the feel of their bodies pressed so close together. And Wally’s realizing that it’s been so long- just how long it’s been since they’ve been relaxed like this, at peace, at ease. When they didn’t feel the weight of the world, or a mountain of stress or the fear of rejection or judgment or any of those horrible things. When it was just them and their love, the warmth of their bodies and the intimacy of Barry’s touch.

Barry’s hands, as they roam across his body. A hand smoothing down his back, another drifting towards his waist. His gentle breathing, the delicate dance of air against his neck. Wally closes his eyes as he leans in, presses his face sideways against his chest and enjoys the moment, allowing his lover’s hands to explore his body. Gentle kisses against his skin, slow and almost cautious, as Wally allows them to continue. Encourages the affection with his hands, as they press more firmly against Barry’s back, firm and with intention as he presses himself as close to him as he can. Kisses traveling to his shoulders, gently beneath the edge of his collar as one of Barry’s hands is tugging the material back. And the other is continuing to wander across his waist, across and toward his stomach, wedging a slight space between them; just enough to massage against it, to convey just a hint of his incredible affection.

The fabric between Barry’s fingers and Wally’s skin is a tease, but it doesn’t lessen his enjoyment of his touch. Kisses trailing along his collarbone, and Wally is leaning forward, to make it easier for Barry to kiss him there. Barry’s hand is wandering. Wally encourages it, a small half-silent sigh as his body gives an encouraging shiver.

Fingers gently sliding between his legs, and he hates that he’s wearing denim because denim is the worst fabric, so thick and coarse; it’s awful, just awful because it’s such a tease when Barry starts to rub him there, fingers pressing and stroking him. He’s feeling the blood rush. Feeling the teasing spark of pleasure as his kisses continue up his neck; he’s sighing as Barry continues to work his hand, stroking, stroking, stroking, the denim so coarse and erotic against his sensitive skin-

“Wally,” Barry murmurs, with some urgency.

“Yes,” but he knows the answer, before Barry responds.

“We need to relocate.”

-

Arching up from the bed, his eyes glossing over. Heart racing, racing as his body trembles. He can hear Barry’s breathing, deep and heavy as he feels the rhythmic push and pull of his thrusts, a rhythm that’s almost soothing. Almost comforting, because _God_ it’s been so long-

Barry’s massaging his mouth with one kiss after another, and Wally’s running a hand through his hair, feeling the sharp edges. Closing his eyes as the kisses start to deepen, and he’s gasping into Barry’s mouth as the thrusts move deeper and faster.

He wants to give himself to Barry. He wants to give himself, like it’s their first time. He knows it’s impossible, but the way he feels, he just-

He’s panting to himself when Barry breaks the kiss, hot and wet as he trails licks and kisses across his face.

Sweaty and frantic, they’re mating like a pair of animals. Wally feels like he’s in heat. Exhausted and overwhelmed, but unable to stop. Unable to do anything but want more, and more. Panting and moaning out loud as Barry continues to thrust into him, harder now. He’s not at his full level, not to how furious and rough he would’ve been before, but this is almost just as good. It’s still amazing.

Because Barry likes to tease, when he thrusts in especially deep he pauses to vibrate his cock inside him, leaving Wally a gasping mess, eyes wide and startled voice crying out from the pleasure ricocheting through his body.

“So naughty,” Barry’s murmuring against the side of his face, and Wally bites his lip, whining as he nods. Barry’s licking his neck, biting and chewing on his skin as the sensation travels down. Travelling towards his chest, Barry’s voice is rough and defined with raw lust, “You want me that much, Wally?”

“Yes,” he can barely breathe. He nods for emphasis, “yes.”

“You need me that much, baby,” and he’s biting down, a sharp stinging pain on his collarbone as Wally pleads with him, “yes.”

He doesn’t normally encourage him this much. Not like this. Not verbally. But Barry’s so hard and so lustful that Wally wants to do everything in his power to up the ante. If that takes indulging the kinks, he will indulge them. Joyfully.

And deep inside, a small part of him enjoys them. He can’t ever confess it out loud, but there’s a reason he’s never asked Barry to stop. Will never ask Barry to stop.

To stop saying things like what he’s murmuring now, “I’ve got you all knocked up,” in between sharp suckings and licks against his skin. He’s leaving bruises—Wally feels them, that familiar burning sensation—but it doesn’t matter because they will fade. “And you still want more,” and Wally’s hissing to himself from a particularly sharp one.

But he doesn’t need to agree anymore. He just opens his mouth more, lets his pants and moans escalate in sound, just a little more. Just a little louder, and he knows Barry likes it, because the man’s hands are wandering. His hands wander when he’s feeling pleasure; that’s how he returns the favor.

Fingers pinching at his nipples, and giving a slight twist as his kisses travel lower, down to the center of his chest. “It’s getting pretty hard to fuck you,” he says, as he licks between his pecs, smooth and flat as they are. A hand stroking lightly across his stomach, “You’re gonna get too big soon.”

Wally plays along, but there’s some truth in what he manages. “Then I can just,” he pauses to breathe, “Sit on top of you.”

“Sure,” another trail, another wet lick before he pulls back and sits up, holding himself up with hands that dig into the mattress, of either side of Wally’s body, “I’ll let you ride me.” He leans down one time, an impulsive, open-mouthed kiss that’s messy and wet and beautifully uncoordinated, tongues meeting halfway before Barry presses their mouths together. The coarse feel of his tongue makes Wally writhe beneath him, because it’s such a tease, kisses are such a tease because he wants to hear more of what Barry was saying-

It startles him to realize that, every time like it’s something new. But he likes what Barry says. He likes those terrible words.

When Barry pulls back, Wally can’t contain some of his excitement. He feels himself becoming increasingly hot around Barry’s cock, blood rushing as his body starts to ache. He needs to come, but not yet. So much like he’s sure Barry is doing, he exercises self-control and waits. Just for a little while. To make the game last as long as they could.

Hands pressing in around either side of Wally’s chest, Barry uses his new leverage to thrust harder and faster, continuing to vibrate every time he hits inside. His control over his power is stunning; Wally didn’t even know it was possible, didn’t know it could be done until Barry started doing this to him. He controls himself like a sex toy, starting off slow and speeding up and slowing down at will. It’d be more awe-inspiring, if he wasn’t so distracted by his own arousal.

And now, the very dirty words spilling out of Barry’s mouth.

Words like, “You think I can give you another baby, Wally,” and another thrust; “If you can fit one in there-”

“Sure I could,” a rushed whisper, an encouragement because he wants him to go on.

“Yeah,” he’s surprised but that’s not a bad thing. Because when he pushes in against his cervix he’s vibrating again, and Wally’s panting uncontrollably from how dizzying that feels. He doesn’t normally do it this much, but good _God_ he wants him to do it some more- “I already gave you two,” and Barry even grins at him, “So what’s three gonna hurt.” He pauses to thrust, pulling back and pushing forward, back and forward, and Wally hears the disgustingly wet sound of just how much cum he’s generating down there, how slick his entrance is now, “Your body can’t resist me, can it Wally?”

“N-no,” it’s difficult to speak when you’re breathing like this. So uneven, so erratic-

“Every time we fuck,” with a thrust, and another; “I’m gonna give you another baby.” Thrust, and another. “How’s that sound.”

“Yes..”

“Yes?” thrust, thrust. Thrusts so hard he rocks the bed beneath them.

“Please, yes.”

“Say it for me,” his eyes are closing; he’s getting close.

“Please, Barry,” he starts to shake because Barry’s vibrating again; “Give me another baby-”

Oh God oh _God_ , and now he’s so close-

“Wally,” Barry’s practically moaning his name, “You’re such a perfect mate.”

Wally closes his eyes, focusing on his voice, and the feel of his cock traveling and shaking through him.

A hand briefly massaging against this stomach, “You carry my children so beautifully,” and he stops because he needs to divert more energy into thrusting, because he knows how close they both are. He spreads Wally’s legs as far open as they’ll go, comments idly that he’s, “So wet,” and pounds into him hard and fast. Hard and fast like an animal, “Your body loves my cock, doesn’t it baby,” hard and fast, hard and fast; “You love carrying my children-”

“Yes,” Wally reaches up with his hands, firmly grasping onto his shoulders; Barry’s skin is hot and rough beneath his touch-

“Let me fill you up,” and he sinks in deep, vibrating against his cervix as Wally starts to pant to himself. Vibrating, vibrating; “Let’s make another baby, alright-” Vibrating, vibrating, and Barry’s moaning in between his own words, “So do you want a boy or a girl, in here-”

When Wally looks up at his face, Barry is staring at him intently, as he thrusts slowly, his cock a sensual and precise vibrator that’s almost painful and exquisite. “Which one do you want, Wally-”

“Both,” he whispers.

Barry grins at him, and leans down to lick across his lips, “Then I’ll give you both.”

He pushes in deep again, and holds still. Wally’s feeling the shake move through, feels the vibration and starts to whine as he winds a hand around Barry’s neck, the other digging into his back. He holds him there as Barry continues to taunt him, “You’re such a perfect mate, Wally.” A lick to the side of his face, “Such a beautiful bitch.”

Wally knows what Barry means with that word-

“Such a beautiful bitch,” his deep breaths against his neck, his deep breaths-

He’s coming. Wally doesn’t notice it at first, except he feels that familiar warmth spread through him. The sensation of slowly being filled as Barry’s body tenses and relaxes, feeling the heat of his ejaculate as Barry pumps it into him, kissing and chewing on his lips as he closes his eyes and rides out an orgasm.

And when he’s done he leans back again, and vibrates himself one more time, so fast that Wally can barely stand it. Barry’s telling him, “Now be a good boy, and make a baby for me,” and the sensation of him vibrating with so much cum inside his cunt is startling-

And erotic. Crazy erotic, he's whimpering to himself-

When he comes, Barry looks down at him with some amazement, a tired smile on his face as he watches him closely, observantly like he loves to see every second of it. He’s watching his expression change, and Wally’s in the bliss of an orgasm as he stares back at his lover, vision hazy but clear enough to notice how content he is, how at ease-

Wally’s coming down, closing his eyes as he feels Barry’s gentle kiss against his lips, kissing him like a lover. He’s not a mate anymore, he’s not an animal right now; he’s Wally, _his_ Wally, and Wally loves feeling that way.

“You’re so perfect,” Barry murmurs, before he kisses him again.

But the phrase has a different meaning, now. Now that they’re calm. The game is done. But Barry still says something that’s so-

“So perfect,” it seems like he can’t stop kissing him.

Wally allows him to continue. Returns the ones he can, his hands on Barry’s face, touching him gently and affectionately as Barry goes on and on, one kiss after another. Like he can’t taste him enough; can’t love him enough.

Wally loves feeling this way.

Barry cleans them up. Wipes at some of the cum that’s dripping out of Wally’s body, with a slight laugh to himself. Gives a teasing kiss to his stomach while he’s there, saying that he hopes it didn’t distress them for their _mom_ to have sex like that. Wally smirks back and tells him it doesn’t matter. Barry grins and says it’s probably better if they don’t realize what freaks they are. Wally laughs and says they won’t remember once they’re born, anyway.

That makes Barry pause for a second. He presses a hand against Wally’s stomach; keeps it there for a moment. A curious look travels across his face, an expression that’s almost sad. But it’s more complicated than that.

“I love you so much,” his voice is quiet.

“I love you too,” but he’s almost afraid to say it. Because Barry’s looking unusually fragile, like what Wally imagines his face would look like if he ever cried.

But when Barry glances up at him, he’s smiling. He massages his stomach one time, a smooth circle. Gives it another kiss. Murmurs a, “Thank you,” before he crawls up the bed and lays down beside him.

“For what,” Wally’s asking.

“Everything.”

-

“So. Twins.” Roy’s walking along beside him, hands in his jacket pockets, his walk stiff and upright.

“Yeah,” Wally’s nodding, “It’s… really something.”

“Must be scary,” Roy says.

“Why?” It’s not that he doesn’t feel some anxiety. It’s that he’s not sure what would concern _Roy_ about it.

“Hard enough having one kid,” Roy clarifies.

“Yeah.” Wally glances at his face; serious and cold as usual. But he knows enough about Roy, to know that his expression means little. It’s his words that count.

“You’re getting bigger now,” Roy remarks, with a sideways glance.

“Yeah,” Wally laughs.

“But you’re happy.”

Wally looks at him directly. Finds that Roy is staring at him.

They stop walking. The air is cold, so Wally’s hugging himself for warmth as he stares back at him and smiles. He nods, “Yeah. I am-” but he’s interrupted when he notices Roy taking off his jacket.

“Wha-” he’s trying to protest, but for once he’s not quick enough. Roy’s already holding it out towards him.

“Turn around,” he says.

“Come on,” he laughs, but he does it anyway.

Roy takes hold of his left arm, and works it through a sleeve.

Wally’s protesting still, “My shirt’s long-sleeved-”

“Not heavy enough,” Roy murmurs, as he grabs the other arm and does the same thing. Gently turns him around; adjusts the jacket. Pauses when he realizes it won’t possibly zip closed, even if the shoulders are laughably large on Wally’s slender frame.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Wally’s telling him.

“I told you,” Roy says. “I’m taking care of you.”

“But I already have Barry,” as they start walking again.

“Well,” Roy growls a little, “Now you have me, too.”

“Roy, I know you don’t trust Barry-”

“Depends on what you’re asking about.”

“But-” he pauses. “Huh?”

“What.”

“That means…” he grins at him, “You _do_ trust him with some things.”

Roy rolls his eyes. “He’s not a complete idiot.”

Wally grins a little, amused, even if he shouldn’t be. “Geez…”

“Stupid enough to get you pregnant.”

Wally’s smile fades. Because he hates the way Roy says that.

“But he’s still an adult. I’ll give him credit for being old.”

Wally’s eyes fall to the ground. Cracking concrete beneath their feet; he’s watching each cement slab vanish as they travel down the sidewalk, almost too hurt to know what to say. He shouldn’t be offended. He knows how Roy is. He _knows_ how Roy feels. He heard what Roy wanted to do to Barry; he _knows_ what he would do to Barry, if Wally ever gave him permission.

But that doesn’t make it any better to think about, either.

“Barry is a good man,” Wally says.

“Bullshit,” the response is quick and cold, a kneejerk response.

“He’s a good man,” Wally tries again. “He’s taking really good care of me.”

“I know. That’s not anything special.”

“Huh? What are you-”

“He’s doing everything he _should_ be doing. If he’s a decent human being,” Roy shrugs. “He doesn’t deserve special credit for not being an asshole.”

Wally sighs, even though he knows that kind of sound has little effect on Roy.

“Look, I know you like him,” Roy’s staring at him again.

“I love him-”

“I know,” Roy continues, “But that doesn’t make him responsible. That doesn’t mean he didn’t fuck up.”

“We both did-”

“Shut up.”

“It’s my fault too-”

“Shut up with that, Wally-”

“Why doesn’t anyone ever blame me?”

Roy stops moving. Wally stops and stares back. Wally’s hugging himself again, but it’s not for warmth this time.

“It doesn’t take one person to make this happen. I wasn’t raped. I wasn’t forced into anything.” He’s getting so worked up his face is starting to turn flushed, and even Roy’s eyes are widening as he watches him, how animated he is, how… angry. “I’m not some defenseless kid, okay. I’m old enough to know what I did.” He hangs his head, “I knew what I was doing. And I wanted…” he trails off, and even presses a hand against his stomach, for emphasis, “this to happen.” He nods to himself, as if accepting it for the first time, “I wanted this.”

Roy is effectively speechless.

“And maybe it was the wrong thing to do, but I don’t regret it.” He’s shaking from some pent-up emotion, but he’s not sure what it is, and it’s so embarrassing to be like this in front of Roy, of all people- “But ever since people found out about it, everybody’s been so mean about it.” He knows Roy already views him as a little kid, and he doesn’t need his protection so the last thing he needs to do is cry in front of him- “Everybody’s insulting my partner,” shit _shit_ don’t cry. Don’t cry, “and no one gives a damn what I think,” don’t cry- “Or how much it hurts me.”

He covers his face with his hands. Because it’s easier that way. Easier if he doesn’t need to see the alarm in Roy’s eyes. Easier if he doesn’t have to worry about showing his tears.

“I know you’re angry, but-”

“Shh,” in a low, soothing tone; but he can’t stop yet.

“He’s the father of my children, and-”

He wipes at his eyes now, doing his best to not look at Roy—not directly anyway—because it’s too embarrassing.

His voice is small and broken, but he speaks while he can still manage sound, “I just want us to be happy.”

Roy gives a silent sigh, before he finally manages an almost disappointed, “Wally.”

Wally shrugs at him, still trying to avoid direct eye contact.

Firm hands on his shoulders. A moment of silence. A surprised silence; Wally’s eyes are widening as he realizes Roy is tugging him into an embrace. Roy, of all people- Roy, who resents Barry more than almost anyone-

Roy’s embrace is warm and almost too firm; uncomfortably stiff, but Wally appreciates it too much to let go.

“You know how protective I am,” Roy tells him.

“I know,” Wally laughs a little.

“You’re like…” he pauses to think. Sighs again, “Our little Wally. Our adorable little Wally that we all want to protect.”

Wally’s frowning, “That’s not a good thing…”

Roy smirks. “We care about you.” His voice turns somber again, his pitch lowering to its usual tone, “We just want what’s best for you.”

“I think Barry is,” he murmurs.

“I don’t know about that,” Roy says honestly. “But if he earns my approval, he can have it.”

Wally sighs, “Like that’ll ever happen.”

Roy leans back, and grins at him, “He’s still got a few months. When are you due, anyway.”

“I don’t know yet,” Wally blushes a little.

“About how many months,” Roy clarifies.

“..Six or so,” Wally shrugs.

“Well,” Roy frowns, “I’ll give him seven.”

“Seven for him to pass the Roy test?” Wally smirks.

“Seven to prove he’s gonna treat you well.” Roy looks away, battling to keep some emotion off his face, “And to move Heaven and Earth for you.”

“Aw,” Wally whines at him, playfully hitting him on the chest.

Roy’s grinning back.

“Roy…” Wally frowns contemplatively.

“Hm,” he asks.

“Can we… get food now.”

Roy laughs at him.

“I’m kind of reallystarvingnow.”

“I told you to eat before we left.”

“I did,” he whines.

“Geez. How much do you eat?”

“Too much,” Wally complains. “I’m hungry all the time-”

“And you’re probably gonna have two speedsters.”

“ _Argh_ ,” Wally groans.

“Do you need me to start donating food-”

“Shut up,” Wally laughs.

-

The day has finally arrived.

His classmates have noticed his weight gain.

“Getting kinda big around the midsection,” one of them scoffs at him, while they’re changing clothes for P.E.

“Yeah,” another one laughs, “Too many French fries?”

“I told you to lay off the sodas.”

 _You don’t even know me_ , but instead of saying anything proper, he just says a casual, “Yeah, whatever.”

He smoothes his shirt out, and glances down with some dismay to realize that the fabric’s stretching around his bump there; he’s getting noticeably round. The weight’s not distributing evenly. So he doesn’t just look overweight anymore. He legitimately looks pregnant.

A difficult thing to explain, to a locker room of sarcastic young boys who haven’t even heard of someone like him, and wouldn’t have the decency to not ridicule him for it.

When they relocate to the gym, it’s Dodgeball again. Wally’s least favorite. But now he has another reason why, as if the threat of being hit wasn’t enough before.

Today, he’s being insulted.

“But we don’t want him on our team,” one of his classmates whines.

“Gerald, pipe down,” the teacher scolds. But it doesn’t really matter.

Because even when that kid falls silent, others are still staring at him. His classmates are scrutinizing Wally in a way he doesn’t like. They know something strange is going on. They’ve noticed how frightened he is of the ball. They’ve noticed how slow he’s moving. How hesitant. How cautious.

It genuinely hurts his feelings when someone says, “Nobody wants Wally.”

And when some of the others laugh and agree.

The teacher scolds them, but it doesn’t matter. It never does.

On the court, he does the same dance he always does. Except today he’s not quite so swift on his feet—it’s a result of the added weight on his body—and he manages to get hit in the chest instead. It startles him terribly, and he’s almost frightened when he feels the impact. Because it was too close, there was velocity behind it, and if it aimed a bit lower-

He knows it’s a stupid concern. A dodgeball won’t do any serious damage. But it’s still a risk that makes him nervous. A risk that will never _not_ make him nervous.

During his usual, expected walk off the court, someone trips him. On purpose. He’s fortunate enough to notice it in time to turn and land on his back, breaking some of the fall with his hands. But it’s the landing that stuns him, and the malicious intent he doesn’t like. That’s what makes him nervous. And when the guy—he doesn’t even know this one, not at all—stands above him and threatens to kick him, he gives an almost startled yelp before his foot makes contact with his body.

The kid’s laughing. The teacher’s coming over now, but it doesn’t matter. Wally’s already humiliated.

Because he couldn’t move fast enough. Can’t use speed force at school. Can’t move like a normal and fast human being, with the added weight on his body. Can’t coordinate well enough. His reflexes are lacking. Response time is delayed.

And if he’d gotten that swift kick somewhere, there’s a high probability it would’ve landed at his stomach, the part of him that’s protruding the most. The biggest target, to humiliate him just a little more.

He sits alone at a far corner of the bench, sulking in shame for the rest of the class. For a bit of it, anyway.

It’s about halfway over when the teacher strolls over to him, and politely asks if he can speak to him in private. Again. This is becoming too common of an occurrence. Even more cause for embarrassment. But Wally agrees. Of course he does. He just made a fool of himself; he has little else to lose.

“Wallace,” the teacher sighs, as they take their usual, customary seats at the far end of the bleachers, overlooking the court below. “What’s going on?”

“What,” he shrugs nervously.

“With you,” and the man’s stare is patient, but irritated. “And that,” he gestures to his stomach.

“What about it,” Wally’s already feeling defensive. He doesn’t want to. But he is.

The man rubs over his eyes with his fingers, before giving him an exasperated look. His eyebrows tense in frustration, his mouth slack as he says, “You’re acting scared out there.”

“Yeah, well-”

“Really scared,” he clarifies.

“They’re picking on me,” Wally volunteers.

“I know,” he says. “But… hmm,” he groans to himself. And Wally knows what he’s getting at, but he’s curious to see how closely he can arrive at the truth. “You’re acting like… you’re vulnerable.” He pauses. “You get what I mean?”

“Yeah,” but he’s too nervous to say anything else. So instead, he shrugs.

“You know,” he’s trailing off, speaking slowly as he sorts his thoughts out, “It’s just… you’re acting like you’re nursing an injury. You get me?”

“Yeah,” Wally nods. And he decides this is a truth he’s okay with. “I guess I am.”

“Is there something wrong, that… we should know about?” and he gestures again to his stomach.

Wally’s blushing slightly, but he’s not sure of how to respond.

“I mean, Wallace, you’ve been attending this school since you were… what, 11, 12?”

Wally laughs, “Yeah.”

“I know how hard it is for you to put on weight,” the man smirks at him, “You’re the rail-thin kid that gets picked on, but is always spry on his feet. You always bounce back.”

“Yeah,” he acknowledges.

“And if you have a genuine medical problem,” he emphasizes, “we need to know about that. _I_ need to know about that.”

Wally nods.

“I don’t want you to get hurt out there.”

“I don’t either,” Wally says somberly.

“So.”

Wally looks at him.

“What’ll it be? Can you fill me in a little?”

“I um,” he’s trying to think of the best way to say it. To say something that’s half-true, and not entirely incriminating. Not too bizarre, but true enough to protect him. “I have a rare condition.”

The man listens carefully; nods in silence.

“It, um,” Wally gestures to his stomach, “is the cause for this.”

The man’s eyes widen slightly.

“And uh…” Wally trails off. “It’s gonna get worse, so…”

_Please help me._

Even if he’s too proud to say that out loud.

“How much worse.”

“Um…”

“Do you know?”

“Yeah,” he nervously agrees. “A bit. I’m… still gaining weight.”

“With no signs of slowing down,” the man says.

“Nope,” Wally shakes his head, with a reluctant grin.

“Is it an… infection, or… if I can ask,” he holds his hands up in the air cautiously, “If you can tell me.”

“It’s… a condition,” Wally says quietly. “And I um… might need some time off… later.” Because he has no idea when he’s ever gonna work up the nerve to talk about this again. Certainly not in half a year when he’ll be too round to say anything without being overwhelmed with shame.

“Time off,” the man asks.

“Yes. I’m gonna need an… operation. Maybe,” he nods. And falls silent.

His teacher is frowning at him. Another contemplative, “hmm,” as he looks at him again. Scrutinizes his body in a way that makes him uncomfortable.

Wally sighs to himself. Idly looks down below. Notices the game is winding down to only a few students left on the floor.

“Wallace, well-” he shrugs, “Wally,” with a small grin.

“Yeah,” Wally grins back, appreciating the friendly gesture.

The man frowns to himself again, “If you don’t… mind me saying this.” He pauses. Thinks. Continues, “I’ve… heard this before.”

“Mhm,” Wally questions. He’s half-hoping the man figures it out on his own. Half-hoping he doesn’t.

“You know, in… another class, one Miranda was teaching-”

A girl’s class. Wally’s breath catches in his throat.

“I was subbing for her one day and… one of the girls just… lost her composure. Said, ‘I can’t do this anymore, I can’t play anymore…’” He pauses again. A shallow sigh. “I mean, she- had the same reason, she said, ‘Hey look, there’s something wrong with my body, I’m gonna keep gaining weight, I can’t stop it, and… I’m gonna need some time off.’”

He stops. Stares at Wally. Wally stares back. His eyes are burning, but he’s not sure why.

“Now Wally, if… you don’t hate me for asking… Stupid as this sounds, hit me if I’m wrong,” he even chuckles a little. But his face falls serious again, “Are you… in any way female.”

Wally smirks, “That’s a funny thing to ask.”

“I mean-” He’s obviously flustered, and it’d be amusing if the conversation wasn’t so serious, “I’m just asking because you look like it- I mean,” he sighs again.

“I look pregnant,” Wally says quietly.

“Yes, that,” and the man flinches to himself, like he feels bad for even suggesting it. “What I mean is, is this anything similar, or I don’t know, oddly related in any way-”

“I get it,” he says.

“I’m not trying to hurt your feelings or anything, I’m just saying… I mean, I’ve… I’ve just been noticing lately, you’re kinda growing in a way that’s-”

“I know,” Wally nods.

“So I’m not completely crazy,” the man sighs.

“I am,” Wally nods.

“ _Am_ what.”

“I’m…” he trails off. He thinks the blush on his face speaks for itself, but just in case, he attempts words. “I’m… carrying something.”

The man lifts an eyebrow at him.

“Special delivery,” Wally cringes at his own bad joke.

He receives a dumbfounded stare back. For a moment, before the man’s eyebrows lower. “Are you a girl, Wally.”

Wally grins to himself, “Not really.”

But his teacher catches the implication in that phrase.

“Partly,” Wally quietly admits. “Half my body is.”

The man’s eyes are gradually widening, and he manages, “So when you say you’ve got more time like this…”

“Six months,” Wally says, with a nod.

“And then you’re…”

“Maternity leave,” he whispers.

The man nods solemnly. Tells him firmly, “I’ll pull you off the team.” When Wally glances at him with some alarm, he’s quick to say, “I won’t tell them why.”

Wally sighs, but it’s not from annoyance.

It’s relief.

“But Wally, I… suggest you tell them. We can tell them, if you’re scared.”

Wally nods. He doesn’t know what he’s agreeing to. But every word of that sentence seemed right.

“Kids will be kids, and…” he shrugs, “They’ll notice. They’ll make some mean comments, if they don’t understand. …And I don’t… know all of what’s going on, but… Let’s keep in touch about this, okay? You don’t need to go through something like this by yourself. We have resources. We have people that can help you.”

“I have a good support system,” Wally says quietly, with a slight smile on his face.

“But that doesn’t mean we can’t help you.”

“Right,” Wally smiles and nods.

A hand on his shoulder, a friendly pat, “Alright, sport. Let’s head back.”

“Oh, um, Mr. Hutchins,” Wally gets his attention.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks,” he smiles a little.

His teacher grins back at him, “Don’t mention it.” He pauses, “Thanks for telling me.”

-

“You’re getting pretty big,” is the first thing Dick has said to him in weeks.

“Thanks,” Wally rolls his eyes.

“You wanna hang out,” is the immediate next thing he says.

“Huh,” Wally does a double-take at him. “Seriously?”

“Yeah,” Dick says awkwardly.

“You’re finally done avoiding me,” he smirks at him.

“Yeah,” Dick grumbles.

Wally pulls him into a loose embrace; Dick cringes, but he doesn’t step out of it. “So adorable,” Wally coos at him.

“You’re embarrassing,” Dick protests.

Wally ignores it, continuing the hug; he finds that he enjoys hugs more, lately. Like he’s full of too much affection to give-

And Dick is glancing down, saying, “Whoa. You’re really huge.”

Wally rolls his eyes again.

“I’m short,” Dick whines, “I notice.”

“Finally admitting how little you are,” Wally smirks at him.

“Shut up.”

-

“So everyone at school’s gonna think I’m a girl,” he says casually, in between bites of an apple.

“And that’s _not_ a big deal,” Dick stares at him with some scrutiny, as he leans up against him.

“Not really,” Wally leans in a little, and gets comfortable as he straightens out the blanket over their legs. He’s sitting back into the couch, as he says wistfully, “it’s a small price.”

“I guess you don’t really know them anyway,” Dick shrugs.

“Yeah,” Wally says, before he bites in again with a loud crunch, “They can think I’m a dog or a cat, for all I care.”

“Dude,” Dick suddenly says, sitting up.

“What,” Wally looks at him curiously.

He stares at him. “You’re gonna be a _mom_.”

“Yeah,” Wally nods.

Dick shakes his head. “Whoa.”

“And you’re still gonna be my annoying best friend,” he hits him on the arm.

Dick is inclined to hit back, but he stops himself.

Wally notices, and laughs a little. “A hit to my arm isn’t gonna do anything.”

“Well,” Dick protests.

“You know you want to.”

Dick grins a little. Playfully hits him on the shoulder. “Close enough.”

Wally shakes his head, smirking as Dick settles back down. He's watching the television screen in silence, trying to figure out how much of the plot he’s missed on this episode, during their conversation. He’s watching in silence-

And immediately jumps a little, startled by a sudden hand on his stomach. When he notices it’s just Dick touching him, he exhales slowly and calms himself down.

“Geez,” Dick is laughing at his reaction, but he keeps his hand there. Wally is reminded of Artemis, except that the expression on Dick’s face is less of understanding and more of perplexed confusion.

“Do you even know how babies are made,” Wally teases him.

“Obvs,” Dick rolls his eyes. But he doesn’t remove his hand.

“Here,” Wally stretches out a little, and presses Dick’s hand there more firmly. He’s idly moving it into place, gently repositioning it until he finds just the right spot-

And Dick’s frowning to himself, before he lets out a laugh that almost sounds like a giggle. “ _Dude_.”

“I know,” Wally’s laughing back.

Beneath Dick’s hand, a gentle kick. When it happens again, Dick laughs one more time, but there’s nothing cruel about it. He almost seems… pleasantly surprised. Impressed, somehow.

“You’re gonna be a mom,” he repeats.

“I know,” Wally says. But he’s not laughing this time. Because sometimes, when he says that, he feels an overwhelming surge of emotion, somewhere between disbelief and completely exhausting joy. He stays silent. Idly bites his lip.

Dick still hasn’t removed his hand.

 _He’s like a child_ , Wally thinks to himself. He’s completely fascinated.

In many ways, Dick still is a child. The thought humbles him, because they’re only two years apart. Can that much change, in such a short time…

In time, Dick is curling against him, his face pressed against his shoulder as he dozes off to sleep. The television lost interest, their conversation winded down, blanket got too warm and Wally’s maternal instincts took over. He let him remain close to him there, wound an arm around him and let the time pass by. Drifted off to sleep himself, even if only for a little while.

Wally wakes up, to the curious sensation of Dick’s hand on his stomach again, smoothing small circles across it in silence. There’s something comforting about it, something soothing so he lets it continue. He doesn’t open his eyes all the way, to pretend he’s still asleep, just to see where it goes.

But it doesn’t go anywhere else. Just that soothing motion, before Dick gets tired again, curls up against him once more, and returns to sleep.

Wall doesn’t know what to think about that. But it’s oddly sweet. No, it’s-

It’s very sweet. Dick has a way of being adorable when he doesn’t even realize it. He has a way of expressing affection without understanding just how profoundly he’s channeling it. It’s part of what makes Dick so special. It’s part of what makes him unique and amazing, in his own way.

Wally murmurs a half-amused, but entirely honest, “I love you.”

Even from beyond the realm of sleep, a half-dazed Dick responds back, “You too.”

-

Wally’s sitting at the dining room table, making his way through a impromptu lunch he threw together—some blend of spaghetti and chicken broth, which is surprisingly delicious—and flipping through a textbook as he hastily alternates between reading and scribbling down notes. Flips through some more pages. Hastily writes. Flips through some more. Hastily writes.

He’s not moving at his usual speed—it’s too exhausting to do much of anything at that speed, these days—but he’s still making pretty good time. Time enough to visit Barry in a short while, anyway.

He’s not aware that he’s being watched, until he hears a small sigh from across the room. He glances toward the sound.

His mother is watching him from the kitchen, leaning against the counter, with a calm expression. She seems relaxed; an unusual sight, considering how high tensions often run between them.

“You’re growing up so fast,” she says.

He stares back with some confusion, uncertain of how to respond. Mainly because he can’t tell if that’s a sad comment of disappointment, or praise.

“I remember when you were just… my little boy. Awkward, clumsy, and hard to handle.”

Wally grins back at her, hoping that’s a good sign for the tone of this conversation.

“You drove me up a wall,” she smiles now, “and down the other side. So full of energy… and so young,” she sighs.

He waits. Idly resumes eating, but slower now. Politely quiet.

“And now you’re…” she pauses, “Having kids of your own.”

Wally pauses. Looks at her with some contemplation. He still can’t read her mood. He doesn’t know what to say.

“You’re so mature,” she says. She even nods, as she steps back and around the counter, “You went and grew up without me,” and she takes a seat at the table, opposite of him.

For a moment, they look at each other.

“You were there,” he says quietly.

“Not lately,” she says, with a tired smile. A sad smile. “I don’t know how you did it… but you’ve handled this without me.”

“Mom…”

“Without _any_ of the help I should have offered you.”

He didn’t expect that. He didn’t expect to hear that at all.

“You’re growing up,” she nods. Her voice is faint and almost disappointed, but not in him. In herself. “And I am so proud of you.”

“Mom,” he says awkwardly. “I…” but he doesn’t have words to back it up.

“And Barry’s been… there for you.”

“Yeah,” he nods. “I see him every-”

“I know.” She clarifies, “And he sees _you_ every single day, doesn’t he.”

“Yeah,” he nods. But it makes him nervous, because he doesn’t know what she’s getting at.

She sighs. “You know, I’ve… When I heard the news, Wally, I was…” She shakes her head. “I was so angry. I thought… What has this man done, to my child.”

Wally bites his lip. But he has to listen.

“What has this man done, to my innocent baby,” she sends him a look, a frightening darkness in her eyes. But she nods more to herself than him, “But… It is,” she even smiles a little. “it is so hard, to be _that_ angry at… a man that’s… been acting so decent.”

This. This is unexpected. This is new.

“He’s been so, _fucking_ decent to you, Wally,” she’s almost laughing, “I don’t even know what to say.”

Wally doesn’t, either.

“He’s just been…” she shrugs, “wonderful to you.” She’s nodding again, “And that’s all I can ask for.”

Wally starts to feel the tension alleviating from his chest. A tension he didn’t realize was there.

“All a mother wants, is… for her baby to be happy,” she smiles at him, genuinely now. “And I see that in you.”

“Mom…” he’s sighing.

“Even though I _hated_ what happened.” She nods, “You’re happy now. You’re happy with him. I know.”

Wally nods; bites his lip because he starts to feel it trembling.

“Much happier than… you even were with Roy,” she grins a little.

“Yeah,” Wally laughs quietly. Because it’s the truth. Even if Roy is special to him. Even if he’d never want to insult him…

His love with Roy was a brilliant light that was surrounded and threatened with darkness. The darkness of never being completely loved in the same way. The darkness of being unable to rely on him to be there. The darkness of being alone with so many of his feelings, of trying to communicate them to someone that didn’t understand.

He’s never felt more whole than he does now, with Barry. That’s the honest truth.

His mom clears her throat, getting his attention back. And she says, her voice finally returning to a hint of usual energy, “But right now, Wally… Honey, you need your mom.”

“Right,” Wally nods. He still doesn’t know where she’s going…

“I’ll let you keep Barry,” she smirks a little, “Although I doubt I could get rid of him if I tried.”

Wally’s almost laughing-

“He cares too much for you,” she says.

Wally falls silent. Because there’s something so beautiful about that statement. The way she says it, like a fact. The truth, that it is one. That it’s the same universal understanding that Kaldur mentioned, the truth that every single person that encountered them always knew.

And probably the reason, the only reason, why Roy even gave a damn enough to attempt forgiveness.

“But you need your mom,” she’s saying, “So… I want you to come to me with things. I want you to ask me things.” She clasps her hands together on the table, “I want to help you. I just need to know what… you need,” she shrugs.

Wally nods. There’s still that lingering trembling sensation. Still doesn’t understand where it’s coming from.

“I love you very much, honey.”

“Love you too, mom,” he murmurs.

“And your father and I, we’re…”

When he looks at her, she’s smiling.

“We’re so proud of you.”

Wally nods; he tries to say a “thank you,” but it comes out half-distorted. He’s choking back what feels like a sob, and it’s confusing and disorienting and-

“Oh, sweetie-” she rises to her feet.

He’s wiping at his eyes as she winds her arms around him, and says quietly, “Are you crying a lot lately?”

He laughs a little, even if it sounds broken and uneven, “Yeah.”

Her voice is gentle and kind, “It’s normal.” She rubs her hands along his back, “That’s completely normal.”

A kiss against the side of his face, and he’s trying not to cry anymore.

“Thanks,” he finally manages.

“No need,” she says. “I’m just doing what a mother should do.”

-

“Please tell me we’re _not_ getting that,” Barry’s voice is surprisingly stern.

“Why not,” Wally pouts at him. “Look, it’s even got the matching booties.”

“Booties,” he tilts his head, “Really.”

“Fine,” Wally sets the set back onto the shelf. “But we’re gonna need shoes.”

“Lots of them, I’m sure,” Barry comments with some amusement. “Let’s worry about those later.”

“Are you budgeting for them-”

“It’s in the budget,” he says calmly. “My very limited budget, need I add.”

Taking advantage of the fact that they’re the only two people in the aisle, Wally leans up against him, “The _Wally_ budget.”

Barry laughs quietly, “My _entire_ budget is the Wally budget. Now, anyway.”

He glances down, to see a wide-eyed Wally looking back at him.

“What,” he smirks.

“Nothing,” Wally shrugs, as he starts to move away.

Barry quickly leans in, and kisses him. Quick and affectionate, Wally’s even giving a surprised sigh when Barry pulls away.

“Now come on,” Barry says, “Let’s keep moving.”

“Aw, man,” Wally whines at him.

Barry shakes his head, “You are getting _way_ too distracted by all of this.”

“They’re gonna need clothes,” Wally pouts.

“But not yet they don’t,” he grins. “Let me get a few more paychecks first. Then we’ll talk clothes and booties and shoes… and whatever your heart desires, okay?”

“Okay,” Wally smiles at him.

“Alright baby,” his tone jovial and cheerful, “Let’s move on. Food's that way," he points.

“Hey, wait-” Wally’s urgent voice stops him.

Barry groans, “Oh _no_.”

Wally laughs. “You’re gonna like this one. I promise.”

Barry shakes his head, “Does it come with booties?”

Wally shrugs, “Maybe?”

“Babe-”

“Just take a look. I swear.”

Barry sighs. “Just take it. Come on.”

“Really,” Wally perks up.

“Yeah, yeah. But that’s the only clothing, bootie thing we’re getting this week. Alright?”

“Okay-”

“Okay then-”

“Hey, wait!”

“ _Wally._ ”

“Check this one out-”

-

Mount Justice. Another evening meeting of the League and his team.

Wally’s still an observer—of course—but he’s a supportive one. He idly watches the proceedings, happy to offer what input he can, in the event that anyone wants his opinion. He can’t pretend to be more knowledgeable than the mentors, but he’s bold and opinionated and he finds his insight can help sway certain decisions.

They’ve done a better job at making him feel important, even if he can’t offer his usual skills. Dick involves him in more of his plans. Kaldur invites his knowledge of certain locales. He’ll even argue out a few strategies with Artemis, in a situation where their tempers collide into a strong and solid resolution.

When he arrives at the mountain, Megan often has a plate of cookies sitting out for him. Organic and with low sugar, to keep them healthier. He tends to give some of them to Artemis and Conner—because cookies are still not an ideal food for his diet—but he’s able to enjoy a few of them with little guilt.

So it’s another meeting with the League, mentors and their proteges gathered into a large circle. Bruce is ready to start proceedings. He’s looking around with a critical eye, seeming uneasy about something. It’s difficult to tell what’s bothering him, because something is _always_ bothering Batman.

Bruce clears his throat. The other members of his team look around, as if expecting something.

“-Sorry,” a voice materializing in the room, after a dizzying blur of red appears behind J'onn J'onzz.

Dick nudges Wally, as if expecting a comment. Wally just smiles back.

As the delayed response booms out through the room— _Recognized. 04. Flash_ —the man steps forward, with a smile. “I’m here.”


End file.
